To Own
by ColossalScarlet
Summary: AU: Once upon a time, in a world far away from here, a beautiful princess loathed a handsome slave owner. Then, she fell in love and loathed him even more. DxC
1. Chapter 1

Hello, so this is a DxC story, because I kind of liked the relationship during season one. Characters may be OOC, but I'm trying, but it comes and goes. I rewrote this first part several times and just decided the best way was to just jump right into the story. The rest will be explained later, details, details.

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><p>The festival had begun at eight that morning and was still going on without signs of stopping. The young girl, hardly seventeen, had read a clock in the window some time ago. It had read 11:47. The summer air was still warm even after the sun's disappearance in the sky and candles lit the street that was filled with costumed people. The Prince of the kingdom had recently been engaged, and engagement festivals were cropping up from the wet south beaches to the dry mining towns of the north, like this one.<p>

The girl gazed out from her window down at the festival below. Everything was happening at once. Drinks were being poured, songs were being sung, girls were dancing and boys were wrestling. A bow and arrow contest, the third one of the night, could be seen on the edges of town while the second round of feasting was being prepared in the heart. Several vendors were competing in prices for costumes and semi-precious gems mined from the town's expansive mines. Music and dancing, drinking and socializing, everything was in full twirl. The girl had never seen anything like it before.

The noise of a door opening pulled her from the window. She turned to the elderly woman entering the room. She was being escorted by two guardsmen.

"Your Highness," she murmured. She bowed then moved forward. "I've brought a costume made especially for you. It's made from the town's finest silk and most valuable gems as a gift from us to you." The girl ran a light brown hand over the cream material. It was smooth and soft with gems sewn into the material in a swirl pattern. When she raised the dress up to full length, she admired the full flair with it. Matching the dress was a mask covered by the same cream silk. Gems rimmed the eye holes.

"Thank you," the girl murmured. She smiled warmly at the woman. "I approve of the dress. It is very lovely." The girl turned around and waited expectantly. The old woman moved quickly to unlace the back of the dress currently being worn. It was an elegant dress of purple material. She had worn it all that day as she spent the company with the governor of the town. It had been a boring affair. Normally the girl loved to speak about politics and economics, but today was her first day away from the castle in years, and she had never been allowed to attend a party before. Well, a commoner's festival party. She had attended many dinner parties, but nothing as wild as what was occurring in the streets below.

The woman had fully unlaced the bodice and the rest of the dress dropped to the girl's ankles. She stepped gingerly out of it. The whole while she was behind a screen, out of sight from the guardsmen, but she still couldn't shake the feeling of exposure. The woman helped her into her costume. The dress had many strings and buttons, but the girl waited patiently. Lastly, the woman guided the mask over her ebony eyes. A cream string was tied behind her head, underneath her brown locks, securing the mask in place. The girl stood in front of an ornate mirror across the room. She hoped no one would recognize her, even though the mask only covered her eyes. She had a curiosity to walk amongst people without being swarmed by equally curious by standers of flanked by brutish guardsman.

"One last gift, your Highness." The woman retrieved a box being held under the arms of a guard, and presented it to the girl. She stared cautiously at the small black box, and proceeded to carefully open it. Inside was a large black gem strung on a line of matching cream sick. Tiny diamonds surrounded the black orb which glittered mysteriously.

"What kind of gem is this?" she asked breathlessly. The woman smiled.

"It is a black pearl, your Highness." The girl brought the necklace up her neck and tied it on herself. She knew without looking that the pearl matched the color of her eyes. She moved gracefully across the room towards her guardsmen. She locked eyes onto the oldest guard, a man in his fifties she had known for years.

"Stefan, a word?" she pleaded. The man glanced over at his partner. He nodded uncertainly. They stepped outside the room into the empty hallway.

"Would it be possible for me to have an hour to myself during the festival?" she asked sweetly.

"As you wish, your Highness. As long as both me and my partner and the other guardsman accompany you," he replied. The girl huffed.

"How can I enjoy my first festival if you are following me everywhere? Everybody will know who I am with you all following me," she complained. The guard shrugged.

"I'm following orders from your father, your Highness."

"Stefan, please," she begged. She opened her eyes wide and willed them to be as adorable as possible. "Please? This is my last chance to see what a real festival is like. I want to be just an average girl for an hour. A mere sixty minutes. Please?" she could see the guard start to shift nervously on his feet. She knew from her many lessons on debating and speech that he was considering her idea.

"If your father found out-"

"He won't find out. Nothing will happen. You can follow me as close as you want outside; I just want a little space." The guard sighed.

"Me and my men will follow you. Will stay back far enough that we wouldn't be associated with you, but close enough that we can extract you should anything happen. We can acquire costume so that royal emblem won't stick out." The girl shrieked gleefully and hugged the old man.

"Thank you Stefan!"

Outside of the city two men on horseback approached the outskirts.

"This is the last stop before we cross the border," one commented. They were both adorned in black outfits that blended in with the night.

"There's a lot of people here," the another murmured. He grinned at his partner. "Sure would be easy for a couple people to get…misplaced. Rally the men." He turned to gaze at the street festival. "We're going to raid."

"Are you sure? The man in the bar at the town over said that this place is crawling with national soldiers. He said the princess herself was making an appearance." The man snorted.

"Even if the princess was here, she wouldn't be wandering on the edge of town, which is where we are going to hit. And if you see a girl walking around with a dozen national guardsmen wearing a crown, don't attack her. That's unnecessary trouble. We need to get in and get out. Now alert the men."

The princess didn't know where to start. She looked over her shoulder, but even she couldn't pick out the guards through the thick crowd of costumed partiers. Someone bumped into her and she stumbled backwards. The person was shaking a bottle of something, probably alcohol, and yelling at someone across the street. The princess stared as the person kept walking without turning around to apologize or drop to their feet, pleading for forgiveness. The princess didn't know how to react, except be amazed. She turned and moved with the flow of people. She passed costume shops, food vendors, flower stands, and gem stores.

The princess stepped into a food shop where the odor of chocolate and cinnamon was strong. She purchased whatever it was the shop was featuring in honor of the festival and continued to walk through the streets. After twenty minutes of walking though, the charm of the festival began to decrease. It seemed the music was getting louder, the men were getting rowdier, and the scent of alcohol more overwhelming. Perhaps she was entering a less civilized portion of the city. Someone reeking of alcohol dressed as a mock priest stumbled past and knocked into the princess. She shrieked in protest.

"Watch where you are walking, peasant," she barked. The man laughed and patted her on the cheek with his dirty hands.

"I…I'd take you *hiccup*…back to m…my place, sweetheart….but *hiccup*…I'm celibate." The man laughed cacophonously and continued stumbling down the street. The princess had had enough. She'd entertained herself, but she wanted the comfort of her room back. She'd trade the smell of books over the smell of alcohol any day.

Something ignited close by, and a fireball exploded into the sky. The ground shook. Pieces of burning wood fell from above. People were shouting and moving. The street began to heat up. The princess looked over the heads of the crowd and saw a large warehouse on fire. Drunk and sober people were moving away from the fire in her direction. Stefan appeared suddenly at her side. He gripped her forearm.

"Time to go," he said. Immediately, very close, another explosion occurred. This one was only a few buildings away. The explosion knocked many people forward that were running away and creating a consequential effect. The princess and Stefan were knocked to the ground. She was dazed from the reeking alcohol and heat from the city fire. Stefan forcibly picked her up.

"Let's go!" he shouted. He pulled her along with the crowd away from the fire. Another explosion happened as the crowd passed another warehouse. The princess cried out as people pushed harder against them, urging everything forward like a wave of fear. The gates to the city came into view as the crowd hurried through them. Everybody slowed down once outside city limits, and watched the fire spread throughout the lower end of the city. Stefan turned to her.

"Are you-?" Another explosion happened on the wall. Screams erupted as the crowd continued running away from the fire in one direction: straight into the woods bordering the city. The princess tried to keep hold of Stefan's hand, but someone pushed between them carrying a young child. Everything happened in slow motion. The child was screaming; the princess saw its face covered in blood. She found Stefan with her eyes and tried to reach for him. Someone tripped and landed into him, pulling him down. She stopped and pushed people to the side and shouted for him, but someone caught her by the shoulders and they surged forward. Everything returned to regular speed.

"I have to go back! Let go!" she screamed. A middle aged woman was holding her and moving her forward.

"I lost my nephew! Please help me find him! We got separated! Please, help me!" the woman was hysterical. The princess shoved her to the ground and looked up, but Stefan and the man that had pulled him down were gone. She hesitantly turned, but moved forward to hustle with the crowd. The paths in the woods couldn't support the hundreds of people overpopulating them. The group she was with split several times as the path split. She tried to follow people who knew where they were going, and after ten minutes she and a group of a dozen others ended up in a clearing in the woods. In the distance she could still see the light of the blaze engulfing part of the city.

Everybody was sitting down on the ground exhausted from the events. The princess frowned as she reflected. She studied military theory diligently (it went hand in hand with politics) and the explosions seemed a little off. They happened not close enough to be caused by accident, but they didn't seem quite intended to kill. The explosions occurred in what seemed to be old warehouses, not in the street where a majority of people were. The weird thing was that the later explosions happened behind the crowd, as if it was herding…

She gasped with alarm and turned to the nearest person.

"We have to keep moving. It's a trap! They were herding us into the woods!" The person just stared bewildered at her. Branches snapped and the clearing erupted in noise. Men ran from the shadowed undergrowth into the clearing. They tackled the surprised people to the ground and began to tie their hands together. The drunken men were shouting with objection while the women screamed in fear. The princess backed up towards the woods, then turned and sprinted as fast as she could in her dress. She gathered her skirts as she ran and pumped her legs.

"One's escaping! Get her!" the princess ran faster, but a hand grabbed her hair and yanked. She screamed and reached back. She tiny hands scratched at the wrist restraining her.

"Let me go! I'll have you arrested!" she shouted. The body picked her up and slung her over their shoulder. She was carried back to the clearing screaming and scratching. As she was deposited onto the ground rough hands tied her hands behind her back.

"My father will hear about this and have all of you hanged!" she hissed. One of the men laughed. He began speaking fast in a foreign language. He must have said something funny because the rest laughed. The man that had picked her up pulled out his bag and fished his hand around in it. When he pulled it out, he had a scrap of cloth. He leaned forward and said something to the princess in his harsh language. She glared at him. He muttered something before gripping the side of her face between his thumb and forefinger. She screamed indignantly as he shoved the cloth into her mouth. Her screams became muffled.

The man pointed and said a few words and the whole camp exploded with laughter. The princess scowled. She rolled onto her back and kicked the man in between his legs. He roared with pain as the camp began to laugh harder. The man shouted angrily and the band of men began to gather up the other prisoners. They were all tied together and led through the underbrush. The men flanked them on all sides, but being tied together prevented any escape. It seemed like they walked for hours, but the princess had no concept of how long they really walked.

They emerged from the woods into a meadow. The princess's eyes widen with awe. Dozens of carriages were stationed in the clearing with more dressed like the ones leading her and her group. In the dim lighting she could see people sitting in some of the carriages. There were cage toppings on them, so they couldn't run. They were all dressed differently, but looked like they were captured prisoners too. But why?

She could see more prisoners emerging from the woods being guided on ropes just like her. They were all being led to a large makeshift tent in the middle of the meadow. A large black stallion was tied outside. As they waited in line outside the tent behind other groups of prisoners, she began to understand what had happened. The explosions were to milk people from the city to the woods. From there, the people were separated and made for easier capturing. Judging from the amount of prisoners, not everybody that escaped the fire ended up being caught.

The line moved forward and her group was ushered inside. Everybody was roughly untied and shoved forward. A young man sat in a chair and quietly watched the separation process. The women were ushered towards the right outside the tent and the men the left. She was the last person in line. As she was guided right, the man she had kicked uttered something loudly. The man in the chair perked up, interested, and commanded something. She was pulled back from the exit and brought to the man on the chair. She glared at him through her mask.

He was a little bit older than her, but had the arrogance of a man twice her age. Her smirked down at her and chuckled something in his harsh tongue. Everybody laughed, again, and the princess felt irritated. As the man finished laughing he took in her appearance more closely. His eyes stopped on her necklace. He raised a hand outward and barked something. The princess's whole body was lifted upward from the ground and pushed roughly towards the man in the chair. The man grabbed her shoulder and yanked her to the ground. He leaned over and fingered her pearl necklace. He reached at his side and presented a knife, never taking his eyes off the necklace. The princess saw looked at him carefully. He had dark hair, the same color as nightfall and had eyes the color of the ocean. A blue green color. He had a handsome face, for a thug. Strangely, his face was covered with barbaric piercings. Several in his ears, and some in his nose, his eyebrows, his lips.

He cut the silk necklace from her neck and held the black pearl in his hand. He grinned like a child. He reached towards her mouth and pulled out the gag. He asked her something, waved the necklace a bit. She continued to glare at him. He rolled his eyes and returned to looking at the necklace. The princess's eyes wandered over the male's body. Her attention was drawn towards his shoulder. On the man's left shoulder was a word tattooed in black ink on his shoulder. Her eyes looked at it curiously. She had seen the word somewhere before, but she didn't know where.

The princess not only diligently studied politics, but music and language as well. She could play several instruments and knew no less than four languages. But this word was somewhat unfamiliar. As he examined the necklace gleefully, she hurriedly ran the word through her mind. Most likely the word was in the language he was speaking, which was unknown to her. Even the languages she didn't know fully, she still knew basic words like "Hello" and "Thank you." She went through the few nearby languages she didn't know.

There was one language that nobody spoke that she only saw in written form. It was the language of the Northern people. Beyond the mountains bordering her kingdom to the north was rumored to be a whole civilization of thieves and bandits. Barbarians. Out of curiosity (and pride) the princess spent a whole summer looking over the language a few years ago, but had never looked at it since. The north was off limits. All information was off limits to people, even her almost. She had to sneak into the historical room of the library in order to gain a peek at the language book.

The man was beginning to finish looking at the necklace. This was her one shot to communicate with them, maybe even negotiate a release. What were the phonetics? The man barked something and a pair of hands gripped her forearms.

The princess blurted out the closest thing to "hello" she could pronounce. Everybody stopped. The man on the chair leaned forward and grinned.

"Hello to you too sweetheart," he smirked. She gasped with surprise. He smirked even more.

"Now dollface, you're going to tell me three things. What's your name, how did you come across a necklace this valuable, and how do you know our language?" The girl glowered at him.

"Let me go, and I'll consider not having you hanged the next day," she spat. He chuckled humorously.

"You're a feisty one, I'll give you that."

"I mean it. When my father finds out what has happened to me, you'll be in serious trouble." She threatened.

"Oh yeah? Who's your father?" The princess paused. She didn't know who these foreign northern men were. She didn't even know they could travel into her country without being noticed. If they discovered she was the princess, she didn't know what their filthy minds would come up with. She took a chance in lying.

"An important guy. Now give me my necklace back." She demanded. He waved it out in front of her, teasing.

"Answer my question. Most the people we have are lower end commoners. If someone owned a black pearl surrounded by diamonds like this, they wouldn't be wearing it to a silly costume festival."

Before she could respond, someone burst into the tent shouting something. Everybody began to move with a new purpose. The man in the chair looked at her carefully. The princess's breath hitched. She could read his eyes. His teal eyes widened, and then he grinned maliciously. He barked brief orders and pulled her to her feet. They exited the tent and he brought her to the large black stallion. He began untying the beast as men dismantled the tent they had been in. More men were gathering the prisoners into the caged carriages and moving out. The man began to speak.

"Odd thing. A lookout spotted dozens of national guardsmen searching the woods close to here. Why would you think that would be?" he asked quietly. The princess shrugged, but half-heartily. She knew that he knew. He knew that she knew.

"I don't know how you got mixed up with all this or how you weren't surrounded by guards, but you, _Princess,_ have just become more valuable to me than your necklace." The man cut her hands free with his long knife, but held it threatening up to her throat.

"If you even think about jumping off this horse and running away, I don't care who you are, I will break both of your legs and leave you to the wolves. Understand?" he growled. She nodded her head. The man lifted her up and placed her on the back of his horse. He climbed on next, sitting in front of her.

"Comfortable Princess," he asked sarcastically. She thumped him on his back as hard as she could.

"You do not get to address me in that manner, you brute."

"You're my property now. I'll address you however I damn well please, woman."

"I have a name."

"I know. It's Courtney," he murmured. They were moving now, quickly. The horse trotted towards the front of the caravan of carriages. The girl angrily wrapped her arms around the waist of the vile man to avoid falling off. He laughed and turned around to look at her.

"Wanna move those nice hands a little further down? It's a long ride back home, and I could use some enjoyment." Courtney's face reddened, and she glared at him.

"You're disgusting and uncivilized."

"Thanks," he replied sarcastically. Courtney stopped talking. She looked over her shoulder and a longing for home pricked her heart. She turned back towards the man she was riding with.

"You know my name, but I don't know yours." She stated. He didn't respond. She huffed.

"I demand to know your name." He muttered something in his native tongue. She awkwardly repeated it. He groaned, very annoyed.

"You're butchering it. In your language, it's Duncan. Now shut up already."

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><p>I have some more chapters planned, but honestly this is a story being written for the hell of it. Um, no harsh critiques please, if any. I don't really want them. This story is purely for fun, not really for improvement.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

I have a lot on my plate, but I'm working very hard to get this out to the few people reading.

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><p>Courtney was thankful that the barbarian hadn't touched the mask still covering her face, for he would have seen her tear stained face whenever he turned to check on her during the ride. She didn't want to cry. Well, she did, but not in front of her captors. She resolved to be resilient, never give them any weakness. That's how everything failed, wasn't it? When a weakness was exposed and exploited? She was a princess for goodness sakes! She was supposed to be perfect, exceptionally accomplished, an ideal leader. That's what she had been preparing for all her life, right? To be perfect and above and beyond at everything she did? Yes, never give them a weakness. But, for now, if he couldn't see the tears, he couldn't see her present weakness.<p>

She hated crying. It made her feel young, as if she were a child again. She had faith in Stefan. She knew he'd find her and extract her within days if not hours. But, the situation was still straining on her. She felt like she had lost control, and Courtney _never _lost control. She normally had everything planned, everything in her control, everybody's obedience. She reached up and wiped her face underneath her mask. She felt more ashamed at her crying. One last tear, and she was done. She pictured the frail, petrified Courtney inside and mentally built a stone wall around her in order to hide her away. She needed to be strong, for just a little while longer. No more crying. No more.

The caravan kept moving throughout the night, much to her disdain. Courtney felt exhausted, but she didn't want to fall asleep while in the hands of filthy men. Just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, illuminating the inky blackness with just a hint of gold, Duncan gave orders to stop. At least, that's what it sounded like in to Courtney's ears. The wagons spread out to a form two circles, an inner circle and an outer circle. The inner circle contained all the wagons with the prisoners while the outer circle contained wagons that held supplies. Nobody began unpacking supplies just yet, but just stood around chatting with each other. Courtney watched as Duncan ordered a dozen men on horseback. They rode hard off in all directions. She asked him what he was doing. He smirked at her and replied in his native tongue. She scowled at him. He chortled.

"Don't get pissy with me just because I'm not translating everything for you. Learn my language if you're so damn curious."

"As if I'd bother learning your barbaric, rogue tongue. It's a cacophonous and austere language just like its speakers," she replied.

"Our language makes us more of a mystery because nobody in your land can understand it."

"Nobody wants to associate with you," she shot back. He grinned and leaned in closer to her.

"You're the one wanting me to translate, _Princess_," he whispered loudly. She scoffed.

"You are an infuriating, unmannered barbarian. I do not want to associate with you in any form nor do I want your translations. My guardsmen will find me soon enough anyway." Duncan stared her seriously in the eyes.

"I have been running this same slave route for almost three years, and the person before me had been doing it for almost three decades. Don't you think if my people could be so easily found, we would have by now? We are practically a ghost story in your country. Look at the facts Princess. Nobody knows about us as we have been infiltrating your country since before you were born. You will never be found by your people," he hissed. She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward as close as she could on the large horse.

"How many times in history have your people kidnapped the princess of the nation? If it were an accomplishable task, it would have been done before." Duncan grinned wickedly.

"How many times in history was the princess of a nation stupid enough to go wandering around in the woods at night without guardsmen?" Before Courtney could retort, a rider returned from the woods. He spoke quickly, but judging from Duncan's pleased response, it was good news. Like a rippling effect, everybody began setting up camp. Tents were being assembled inside the ring of wagons and outside them. Food was being brought out for the men and prisoners. Buckets were being carried off for water presumably. The large tent from last night was being assembled again. Duncan agilely jumped off his horse. He landed easily and turned. Courtney looked at his open arms. He said something short. It sounded like he was saying "darkshay" except his r and his k were rolling together into one sound. He repeated the sound and she simply stared at him.

"Jump," he ordered. She swung a leg over and slid off the horse as best as she could without leaping into his arms. She would not depend on him for anything. She landed tremendously less gracefully than he had, and he had to grip onto her forearms to prevent her from knocking both of them down.

"My scout informed me that he witnessed your guardsmen heading in the wrong direction, completely convinced by the fake trail I had some of my men create. It'll buy us enough time to reach ground that is untraceable," he told her cheerfully. Courtney was speechless. Just like that? She couldn't believe it. Stefan couldn't be duped by a simple false trail, could he? She had known him for years. He was a master of stealth attacks prior to being her bodyguard, and even then he had a way of always being able to keep track of her. When she was barely old enough to run properly, she had tried to play hide and seek, and just when she thought he had lost her completely, he would show up and startle her with a laugh and a "found you."

Courtney's eyes widen. She glanced over at Duncan who seemed at ease with the new information. She knew what Stefan was going to do. He had duped Duncan and his men by making it seem they were following the trail. Now, Duncan wouldn't be suspecting their attack. Stefan would have the element of surprise after all. Courtney only hoped her guardsmen could stay off Duncan's radar long enough to launch an attack to get her back, but before Duncan did reach the untraceable ground.

The tent had been assembled and Duncan brought Courtney and his horse over to the entrance. He tied his horse up outside with a stake to the ground. She watched him gently rub along his horse and whisper as sweetly someone speaking the horrid language could, and then he reached into a bag tied to its side. He pulled out a pair of metal cuffs. Attached to the chain connected the cuffs was another long chain, forming a T shape. Attached to the end of the longer chain was a metal steak. Duncan grabbed one of Courtney's wrists and jerked her inside the tent. Near the back corner he began to pound in the steak with the chain attached into the ground. Once the steak was firmly in, Duncan gave it a good pull. It didn't budge. He brought the cuffs and quickly snapped them onto Courtney's wrist before she could pull them away. She angrily attempted to squeeze her hands out of the metal rings around her wrist.

"What is the meaning of this? I am not an animal to be chained up!" she shrieked. Duncan looked at her as if she were stupid.

"Are you stupid? If I don't tie you up, you'll run away."

"You put everyone else in cages! Why am I the only one tied up in _your_tent?" she demanded. Duncan's hand flew out and grabbed the sides of her face, covering her mouth with his palm. She squealed and reached up in order to pull his hand away. He squeezed tighter and she stopped.

"Stop it. Stop opening your mouth and letting out all your distasteful sounds. Think before you begin to open your mouth and make demands to me. One, you have no authority or control over me, so your pathetic sounds are a waste of my time to interpret and listen to. Second, you are forgetting that you are not a peasant or farmer or milkmaid. You are the princess of one of the most powerful nations in this region and beyond. You. Are. Valuable. More so than anything I have ever laid my hands on before. I will not risk you riding in a cage with thirty other people, some of which are from a different kingdom. If anyone with a grudge had the opportunity, you could be strangled in a heartbeat and my one way ticket to retirement is lost. You _will_ remain at my side for the rest of the trip because you are the most valuable possession in my life right now, and I will not risk anybody stealing you away from me." Duncan let go of her face, whirled around, and stormed out of the tent. Courtney remained standing for a good few seconds before dropping to the ground. She felt appalled by the barbarian's behavior, but also frightened. She could still feel a twinge of pain in her jaw from where he had clutched it so hard. Her fear rapidly turned to anger. How dare he touch her? She was royalty. He was a thief, a stealer of lives!

When Duncan returned, she was sitting on the ground facing away from him. If she could have one wish at that moment, it would be a tossup between wishing for the key to her cuffs and wishing Duncan dead.

"We're only staying here till midday, and then we're going to keep moving. If you need to sleep, you better do it now because we won't stop again till midnight." Courtney remained mute and motionless. She could hear Duncan sigh and mutterer something in his native tongue before leaving the tent completely. All the excitement and turmoil from the previous day and night begin to worm its way to her head, and she began to realize how tired she felt. She didn't want to sleep, but maybe she would just lie on the ground for a minute.

She awoke to someone jerking her back and forth. She bleary smacked the hands away and shot up with discontent.

"Wake up, we're leaving," Duncan said. She reached up to rub her eyes but all she felt was her mask. It was still on her face. Her chains jingled as she attempted to rub her eyes underneath her tightly fastened mask.

"Don't move," he commanded. Courtney hesitantly stopped and watched through the eye holes as he grabbed the side of the tie string and cut it free with his knife. He pocketed the mask and his knife. She properly rubbed her eyes and face where the mask had been tied against. She felt slightly better now that her entire face was free. She looked up from her position on the ground to see Duncan staring at her face.

"What?" she snapped. Duncan said nothing. He unstrapped a tool from his belt and positioned it on the ground near the steak. The steak itself was like a hook pounded into the ground, and the tool hooked underneath the hook in the steak to pull it out. After pulling the metal out of the ground, Duncan used a key kept on a chain around his neck to unbind the cuffs on Courtney's wrists. She slowly followed him outside. The midday sun was shining bright. The summer breeze ruffled her hair and the strong, sweet scent of flowers invaded her nose. It would have been a nice day to sit outside and read under the shade of a leafy tree.

A majority of the camp had reassembled and appeared ready to leave. Duncan reached into a bag on his horse and pulled out a scrap piece of cloth. He walked away briefly towards a tub of water that had yet to be dumped out and dipped the cloth into it. When he returned, he held it out to Courtney.

"Here. This is for your face," he stated gruffly. She gingerly picked it up, but stared it uncertainly.

"Why?"

"You were wearing makeup last night, yes?" he asked. Courtney nodded suspiciously. Her handmaids had applied some rouge to her face and kohl around her eyes.

"It looks like you were crying. It's smeared now and makes you look revolting. Clean yourself up," he instructed. She swiftly scrubbed her face as best as she could without a mirror. She felt a combination of embarrassment and fury. When she felt like she had cleaned everything from her face, she tossed the wet cloth back at Duncan. It hit him in the back of the head.

"It's not my fault you were leaking from your eyes like a baby," he chided without moving. He finished packing his horse, and slowly swiveled to face her. He moved closer to her unamused face.

"Would you like it to be my fault that you're leaking fluids somewhere else though?" he asked huskily. Courtney gasped, and she could feel her face redden. She knew it was from a combination of rage and blushing.

"You cretin! You insufferable cretin!" she shrieked. She used both hands to push him away. He merely laughed and picked her up by her waist to put on the horse. He nimbly jumped up in front of her, and within minutes the rest of the camp was in motion.

Duncan, still chuckling, said, "I'm going to miss you Princess. You get so riled up, it's funny." Courtney felt her throat tightened up. He truly was going to sell her. But, of course, she didn't need to worry yet. She was going to get rescued, and if she wasn't and something happened, she'd figure out a way to escape herself.

After just a couple of hours of riding a horse, she began to feel sore. Her muscles began to feel stiff, and she wanted to get down and walk. They didn't stop when night began to fall but continued diligently onward. The group was moving northward, towards the not so distance border of her country. Courtney attempted to nonchalantly scan the tree lines hoping to see a glimpse of Stefan or another national guardsman. She never saw a sign of them during the ride. She hoped it was because they were succeeding in being stealthy and not actually traveling a false trail.

Courtney's eyes were beginning to droop significantly when Duncan signaled the band of thieves to stop for the night. They stopped in a small clearing that had a few short trees and some shrubbery, but not much else. The men circled up the wagons again, and Duncan dispatched several men on horseback to patrol the perimeter. Across the camp, men were lighting torches for light. In the middle of the camp, near the location where Duncan's tent was being set up, crates were being unloaded from a nearby wagon. Instead of sounding cranky and tired, the men were actually sounded jolly and energetic.

The band of men didn't wait for the patrol to return before cracking open one of the crates. Inside, from the distance in the dark that Courtney could tell, were bottles of some kind of liquid. She jumped off the horse next to Duncan. She landed unskillfully on the ground again. Duncan pulled his cuffs out again and led her to his tent. She glared at him all the while.

"Don't give me that look, Princess. You'll have a better time in here anyway," Duncan said after catching her glare. She laughed dryly.

"Better time? I'd have a better time if I weren't in chains," she replied. Duncan sighed and gave the chain lead in his head an extra tug forward. Once inside, he yet again hammered a stake into the ground, forcing her location.

"Since we're so close to the border, me and my boys are having a little celebration. So, you'll probably want to stay out of the way."

"No problem. Just unchain me, and I'll be on my way," she shot back. Duncan smirked.

"If I did that, I wouldn't have your prude, pretty face to come back to." He reached around and gave her rear and slight smack. She blushed scarlet and pushed against his chest. Duncan laughed cheerily and said something in his native tongue before leaving the dark tent. Courtney crossed her arms and glanced around the tent. It was very dark. Duncan had left with his own light. After her eyes became adjusted she thought she could make out the faint outlines of his bed. It was a mat on the ground with just a few blankets. The only thing she had near her was a fur blanket. She picked up the blanket and ran her hand across it. Although she couldn't see it, she could tell it was old. The fur was matted from years of washing, and patches of fur were missing. Although fur was better than simple linen or cotton blankets, the condition of her blanket could have been better for her standards.

She lay down on the soft grass and covered herself as best as she could with the timeworn blanket. She could hear the men outside beginning to get loud as they consumed what she assumed to be alcohol. She smirked to herself. If they became over intoxicated, and if Stefan was waiting to rescue her, he'd have no problem saving her if everyman in the camp was in a drunken sleep. She tentatively closed her eyes. She felt so worn out from the whole ordeal, perhaps just a few more hours of sleep wouldn't hurt.

She awoke sometime later to Duncan stumbling into the tent. She didn't move. She didn't want a drunken man getting the wrong idea and making advances, especially in her position. Once inside, he moved without hesitation towards his mat. She listened to blankets being pushed back and the adjustments of the mat as his weight was lowered onto it. She pulled the animal blanket closer to her face as she waited. She wished she was back in her house. She could only imagine the dinner she would have eaten. Freshly killed and cooked fowl seasoned with the richest spices, exotic fruits, mold-free bread, sugary sweet flavored water. At home, her bed was always laden with new furs and tightly woven blankets. Her maid, on the colder nights, would fill a covered pan with coals and slide it into the end of her bed. She lived a comfortable life. She wasn't used to living so roughly.

Courtney brushed a lock of brown hair out of her face. _Snap!_

Courtney's hand froze. She slowly looked over towards the tent entrance. She thought she heard movement, but she wasn't sure. She scanned the entrance back and forth with her eyes as if she could will herself to see through the tent. Movement brushed aside the flap to the tent. Courtney's eyes widen with excitement. She twisted her head to look over at Duncan. He was fast asleep and didn't stir from the sounds. Her eyes almost water with happiness. She saw a shape move closer to her. Her eyes were adjusted to the darkness and she recognized the shape. It was Stefan. His plan had worked!

Courtney sat up quickly. Her cuffs made a slight jingling, but Duncan's form didn't stir. Stefan edged over to her and examined the cuffs. She gesticulated that the Duncan had the key, but Stefan shook his head. Courtney assumed that searching Duncan for the key might cause him to wake up. Stealth was the key they needed right now. She knew that Duncan's men out numbered the guardsman. A fight would result in too many causalities.

In order to examine the stake holding her down, Stefan leaned down in between Duncan and Courtney. Courtney leaned close to him, their heads almost touching. She didn't hear anything, so the attack startled her as well as Stefan.

Duncan was already up and moving for Stefan when Courtney looked up. She opened her mouth to say something, but her throat was hoarse and no sound came out. Duncan reached around and attempted to stuff something in Stefan's mouth. Courtney reached and yanked on Duncan's arm. He had a strong grip on Stefan's face and combined with Stefan's struggling, she couldn't pull Duncan's arm away. Mere seconds later Stefan stopped struggling. Courtney gave a small cry of alarm and clutched at Stefan's body. His chest continued to move, but he looked unconscious. All her hopes for returning to her home were lying unconscious in her lap. She looked up at Duncan's triumphant body.

"What did you do to him?"

"The rag was soaked in a sleeping draught made from a plant in my country. I figured your guardsmen wouldn't be easily misguided by a false trail, so we anticipated their attack. I informed all men to deliver the same tactic to any guardsmen caught outside the tent when they raided the camp."

Courtney glanced down at Stefan's unmoving form. She blinked back tears of panic and disappointment. She turned back to Duncan.

"So you knew that I thought my guards were still coming for me."

"Yes."

"Why bother telling me they were misguided? Why let me think they had the upper hand?"

"Because I couldn't risk you communicating to the guards and telling them it was all a trap. I figured you were the type to sacrifice yourself if you knew others would be injured." He smirked and Courtney looked away. She knew he was right. If he had told her that he was going to leave a trap for her guards, she would have warned them if she had the chance. That meant the excessive drinking was just a ploy. Duncan wanted Stefan and his men to attack that night and presumed they would if they believed Duncan and his men were asleep after being drunk.

"This seems like a bunch of trouble for just a few men," Courtney whispered vehemently. Duncan shrugged.

"I couldn't have national guardsmen following us across the border nor could I have them returning to gather reinforcements. I'll either sell them like everybody else or kill them when we get off of your country's land." Courtney gasped.

"No! Please, don't kill them!" she pleaded. Duncan raised a dark eyebrow. She bit her lip nervously. He squatted down and looked her straight in her dark eyes.

"What will you give me in exchange for their lives?" he asked. She forced herself to remain reaction less.

"Absolutely nothing. I wouldn't give you an inch to work with," she replied. Duncan grinned and grabbed her chin with one of his hands. His hands were rough and calloused, but not revolting on her face.

"You're a feisty one, Princess. You're breaking my heart," he said cheekily. She wrenched her face out of his hand.

"Touch me again, and I'll break something else of yours," she threatened. Duncan chuckled. He agilely stood up and patted her head as if she were a dog.

"I'm going to go check on the rest of our newly acquired prisoners. " He pocketed the rag and lifted the unmoving body of Stefan onto one of his shoulders. Courtney watched despondently as Duncan sauntered out the tent into the night. As the tent flap opened, she could spot several lit torches moving around outside.

She remained in an upright position. She didn't know what to do. She trusted Stefan to save her, but both of them had been careless. He should have disposed of Duncan while he pretended to sleep, and she should have been watching Duncan instead of watching Stefan scrutinized the chain. She felt alone. She was a naturally independent person, but she had never had to rescue herself. She didn't know if she could, but she had to. No one else knew where she was. No one else was coming for her. She had only a few days to rescue herself before they reached the border. At that point, she didn't know how long she had before Duncan reached his destination.

She lay down and wrapped the fur blanket around herself once more. Her only chance would be when they were traveling, for that was when she wasn't chained. She lay on the ground with her eyes closed attempting to sleep, but whenever she began to feel drowsiness creep upon her she remembered the desperateness of her situation and she was awake again. She cracked her eyes a few times as the rest of the night, or early morning, passed by. Eventually, small rays of sunlight penetrated the tent and illuminated the darkness. She remained in her position on the ground with her eyes close, but she was fully awake and alert even though she was exhausted.

The flaps of the tent moved gently aside and footsteps almost perfectly quiet stepped across the ground of the tent. She heard the boots of the figure stop near her. She controlled her breathing into even breathes rather than the erratic breathes she wanted to do. Something reached out and touched her face. The touch was so light, it almost tickled. She fought the desire to flinch away and endured the gentle movement of fingers across her face. As mysteriously as they began, they ended. Courtney mentally heaved a sigh of relief.

The figure began to move away from her form, and she dared to marginally crack one eye. In the morning light she glimpsed the backside of Duncan walking towards the exit. No man had ever touched her face before like that. The touch was more than a friendly pat on the cheek. It was strange to Courtney. She unconsciously reached up and touched the part of her face he had touched. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion, but settled with realization. He must have just been doing something all guys do. He knew she didn't want him touching her, so he touched her in her sleep. Guys touched women all the time, it must be normal. She rubbed her face as if her touch would erase his, and she turned away from the tent's entryway. She had other things to think about than Duncan's perplexing habits.

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><p>AN: I'm thinking updates will be about once every 2 weeks or so, maybe earlier if I can manage. I'm decently busy, so I don't think I can do once a week. Hopefully that's okay Thanks to see my reverie, WhiteTigerStripes, MusicLuver78901, dauty1, and frizzle1872 for their lovely and splendiferous reviews. It makes me smile to read such nice reviews. My goal for this chapter was to not sound completely cheesy, but I may have rushed this chapter, so sorry if everything was thrown too fast.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3; I'm really excited to write this story. It may show in the parts that are rushed. I just want the story to get to the lovey love parts, because I'm a romantic at heart. Plus, I'm not good at setting up relationships.

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><p>Courtney was awoken at dawn. She felt stiff from lying on the cold ground and slightly wet from the morning dew. She looked up and around for Duncan, but she didn't see him in the tent. His sleeping cot was missing and all his gear was absent as well. She sat up and prepared to stand, but her shackles tugged on her wrists, reminding her she was still chained. She waited. Outside she could hear the shuffling of feet and occasionally spurt of barbaric tongue. She wrinkled her nose at the sound of the cacophonous noises.<p>

The flaps of the tent's entrance peeled back and she saw her captor's lean form emerge from outside. He strode forward and began unfastening her binds. After the removal, she rubbed her slightly reddened wrists. Duncan spoke briskly.

"We're about to leave, and we're not stopping for a while. If you need to relieve yourself, let me know now." Courtney blushed.

"You are not accompanying me while I relieve myself. That is completely indecent," she scolded. He continued to stare stonily at her.

"Well? Do you need to go?" he asked again. She looked away vehemently, and glanced back at Duncan. She nodded. Duncan reached for her forearm and yanked her upright. He brought her out of the tent out into the darkness of early morning. Sunrise was on the horizon. Duncan barked orders at a young man carrying a crate. The man nodded without pausing, and Duncan turned back to her.

"Come on." He led them towards the woods. Duncan moved easily through the undergrowth while Courtney struggled with her dress. Duncan turned and noticed her wrestling against a bush that had grappled her skirt. She pulled as carefully as she dared without tearing her delicate dress. She refused to be paraded around in torn clothing. The bush refused to give up its hold on her dress. Her hands fumbled against the thorny holds, and the more the thorn stuck the more her vision blurred and her hands shook. For once, why couldn't something happen in her favor? Nothing was going right. She angrily picked at the multitude of thorns before a pair of hands reached out and grabbed hers. Courtney looked up at Duncan who was looking down at her dress. He patiently unhooked her dress from the thorn's clutches. He briefly looked at her face.

"It's just a dress. Don't cry." She brushed hair away from her face and crossed her arms airily.

"I wasn't crying, imbecile." He rolled his eyes. He walked away and she followed. He pointed to a spot near a dried out bush.

"Go there," he ordered. She crossed her arms and shook her head. He rotated his body to face hers. "You go in my sight, or you don't go at all." She scowled contemptuously.

"Give me a little privacy. I'm a woman, not a boorish man." Duncan glared at her before growling angrily.

"Fine. I'll give you fifteen paces, but that is all. I have good hearing, and I will turn without hesitation if I so much hear the sound of your feet running away." Courtney nodded fervently. Duncan stepped off as promised and faced away from her. Although it wasn't the privacy she normally had, Courtney was somewhat grateful regardless for the minimal privacy he allowed. She performed her business quickly and as cleanly as she could.

"All right, I'm done," she called out. Duncan strode towards her and clutched her arm once again. She predicted that if she made it out of the ordeal, she'd have large bruises on her arms.

"Let's go Princess. We have a long day ahead."

They arrived back at the camp just as everybody was settling their packs. As Duncan's horse was being brought to him by the same young man from earlier, Courtney hurriedly scanned the surrounding prisoner cages for anybody familiar. The cages had metal tops and metal bar sidings, but the bottoms of the cage was wooden as well as the rest of the carriage. Large tarps made of what looked to be animal skin were being tied down over the tops and along the sides. She couldn't see into the cages, not with the tarps attached. Duncan snatched her by the waist and lightly lifted her onto the horse. She gripped the saddle tightly. Once Duncan had nimbly mounted and departed, she asked him about the tarps.

"Have you seen the sky today, Princess?" he asked. She surveyed the sky. It looked to be the same shade of gray as the sky had appeared for the duration of her trip north.

"It looks like the average sky."

"Can you feel the air then?" She pursed her lips.

"That's ridiculous. Feel the air?" She watched the back of Duncan's head move back and forth.

"There's rain coming. The tarps are in place to prevent as many from getting ill as possible. A sick man will sell less than a healthy man." Courtney scoffed.

"You're barbaric. God forbid you to do something in the name of decency," she chided. Duncan groaned and urged the horse forward faster. Courtney made a few more remarks as scathingly as she could muster, but they elicited no response. The ride was silent through the woods. As the light broke across the earth, the woods began to thin. Trees grew farther and farther apart until trees turned into shrubs and shrubs became grass. The mountains that surrounded the northern border of Courtney's country became closer. Courtney instinctively turned her gaze away from the monstrous, towering forms. Everybody said that the mountains were impassable, and if you could get through, the natives would kill you within minutes. Nobody tried to get to the other side because there was nothing for them on the other side of the mountains. Courtney stared at the back of Duncan's head as the horse trotted along beside the wagons. Apparently everybody was wrong. There _was _something on the other side, an evil that Courtney vowed she would annihilate once she was back safely in her castle.

That was when it started to rain. There wasn't a warning or sign predicting the sudden downpour of water that drenched everybody in the group. Courtney gasped as the cold droplets penetrated her skin and weighed down her dress. Mutual moans of discomfort and roguish swear words echoed across the wagon train. Duncan didn't react to the water but plowed on. Courtney eyed Duncan's jacket enviously. While she was on the horse, Courtney had to keep a light hold on Duncan or else she'd fall off. But now, with the persistent rainfall and steady wind, she edged forward slowly on the horse until she was right against the back of Duncan's back. She hesitantly moved her arms around his middle and latched on firmly. She was miserable. Utterly miserable and in despair. She wanted to jump off and run, run as fast as she could all the way back to her library, her garden, her bedroom. But she couldn't. She couldn't leave Stefan. He refused to leave without her, and she couldn't leave without him.

The man in front of her shifted. Courtney's head was buried in his back; she could feel every movement of his. He had felt her weight shift against him and her arms envelope his middle. He turned and saw through the heavy rain her form huddled into his back as water drenched her unprotected body. The horse stopped and Courtney removed her head. Duncan had pulled off to the side of the road. He swung off the horse and reached up to put one of his hands on her back. With a little force he scooted her forward on the saddle. Once she was in front he got back on, behind her instead of in front of her. He maneuvered the excess jacket material around as much as Courtney as possible. Duncan's hands reached in front of her and grabbed the reins. He easily looked over her head, for her head came up only to his chin. He leaned over to speak into her ear.

"I don't have any spare material. All the other blankets need to be dry to sleep on, so this'll have to do for now," he murmured. Courtney nodded stiffly. There was a knob sticking out from the saddle, and she held onto it as the horse trotted to catch up with the rest of the wagons. The group didn't stop at midday, but kept moving through the storm. Progress was slow. The rain and wind blurred the path like a gray sheet was enveloping their troop. They were getting closer to the mountains though. Emerald grass gave way to ashen colored stone. Courtney knew that horses were harder to track on solid stone than flexible grass.

The rain let up around dusk, which was the same time Duncan called for camp. Weak mutters of gratitude floated among the thieves. As usual, men were sent out as scouts to check the perimeter, but the task wouldn't take as long as normal. A majority of the landscape was barren. A couple of stunted trees could be seen in the distance with the occasional malnourished shrub, but for the most part the ground was in the open. The rest of the men began to establish camp. Normally, men had to fetch water from a nearby creek, but over the duration of the day rain had filled with buckets with plenty of water. Once the wagons were assembled in their circular fashion and tents were set up, a couple of fires were started. Courtney watched carefully as rations were distributed to the wagons along with cups of water, but the tarps weren't removed, so she couldn't find Stefan's wagon. She felt a pang of sadness prick her heart, but she was becoming accustomed to the feeling over the past few days.

Duncan lifted her down off the horse, but instead of leading her to his tent, he led her to a fire next to it. Several men were already sitting down, preparing to relax for the night. Courtney dug her heels into the wet earth.

"I don't want to go near any of your filthy, rogue men," she exclaimed. Duncan chuckled and pulled on her arm harder.

"Since you seemed to forget your spare clothes when you joined me on this expedition, you have two choices. One, you dry yourself off by the fire." Courtney scoffed loudly and dug her heels in harder. Duncan eased his grip on her forearm in which he was barely touching her. He leaned in close to her face, very close. She could see the reflection of her perplexed face in his teal eyes. She wanted to both reach out and run her hands along his outlandish piercings and yank them out of his pale skin. He spoke softly with a hint of mischievous intent.

"The second option is that you take off your wet clothes and sleep naked." She could physically feel the indignity of his comment create a wave a rage inside her. She clenched her fists and glowered at his cheeky smile. "Oh, and you'd have to sleep next to me," he added. She wanted nothing more than to wipe, no, _burn _the grin off his face. More than the desire to go home and more than her determination to free Stefan. This beastly man was unlike any other creature she had even encountered before.

Before she could act on her inner rage, Duncan led her over closer to the fire. He began to speak rapidly in his language. Once, after Duncan said something in a tone that implied crudeness, the crew laughed jovially. Duncan pushed her lightly down on the ground between two men. Both appeared to be her age, but the similarities ended there. On her left the man was skinny albeit not muscular as far as Courtney could tell from his short sleeved top. His appearance reminded her of her. His skin was the same shade of light brown as her, and he had a mop of dark brown hair but hers was light brown. The other man, on her right, was very large and adorned with more muscles. He had shaggy black hair tied back in ponytail, and a scowl seemed forever etched onto his face. Duncan patted her on the head and left.

The fire warmed Courtney's clothes and she was instantly relieved. The talk around the fire began up again, but she couldn't understand what was being said. As if she were the prey in the vicinity of a predator, she didn't move a muscle from her position hoping she would remain still for so long everybody would forget her odd presence. But she didn't have much luck with that venture. The man on her left began to speak in his garbled tongue. When she didn't reply he spoke in her native language.

"You are the noble woman that is going to make Duncan's career, yes?" She nodded a little, but was disinterested in what anybody around the fire had to say to her.

"Is it true that you can speak Kunthrar?" Courtney tilted her head to the left and furrowed her eyebrows.

"What's Kunthrar?" she asked.

"It's your tongue's closes interpretation for the name of our language."

"As interesting as that is, it isn't true. I cannot speak your tongue," she responded. She watched in her peripheral the man stare at her. She wished he would go back to his business.

"But you spoke to Duncan, you understood our language. You must have learned it somewhere," he pressed. Courtney mentally sighed in her head. She could predict where the conversation was going. He wanted to know how she knew their language, Kunthrar apparently.

"You heard wrong. I can't read your language or speak it," she hissed. The man's eyes lit up.

"I knew it. You read a book somewhere." Courtney's head whipped around to look at him. She knew her face revealed the truth in his statement. He smirked, but his face changed to puzzlement.

"Even if such books existed, they wouldn't be available to anybody. Not even a nobleman's daughter. Everybody knows how much your country despises our existence. How did you come across our language?" he asked suspiciously.

"How did you learn my language so well?" she countered. The man shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"I'm Duncan's record keeper. It's a necessary skill for the job. I have to keep track of all the prisoners and where they came from and other monotonous details. It's dull, but it puts food in my stomach." Courtney gave him a scathing glare.

"Food at other people's expense," she chided.

"Isn't that how most people make money? At some expense of others?"

"Maybe by overcharging them their money, but not by selling their freedom. You're involved with imprisoning other people." She rebutted. She could see his dark eyes by way of the flickering firelight, and in them she saw a bead of sadness.

"I never said I liked selling people into slavery, but you do not know what my country is like. This is the best job I can hope to have right now, especially under the current government," he replied curtly. Courtney's ears perked up at the mention of politics.

"What's your government-?"

"Forget it. It's probably beyond your knowledge of politics anyway." Before Courtney could lecture him about his opinion on her intellect, the man to her right spoke in a low, gravelly voice.

"Stop talking. You annoy people in native language and annoy people in different language too." The man's spoken interpretation of her language was rough and choppy very much unlike Duncan's and the dark man on her left. "You are important woman, yes?" She nodded in agreement for the second time that night.

"You call me Eva." He pointed to the other man. "Call him Noah."

"Eva? That is a girl's name in my language," she responded. She assumed the man's inadequateness was the source of wrong gender name. The man squared his broad shoulders and uttered quietly in a strained voice.

"I am a girl." Courtney's eyes widened with disbelief. She turned to Noah who nodded solemnly. Courtney turned back towards the manly woman and attempted to smile, but her face seemed to paralyze. She was caught in between smiling and confusion. Perhaps it was the awkwardness of the situation or Eva cracking her knuckles menacingly next to Courtney, but she collected herself accordingly.

"A girl? But you're…" Courtney paused, searching for the least threatening words, "…dressed like a man."

"I travel with men. I dress like men." Eva replied. Courtney composed herself in a princess-like manner and attempted to resolve the situation.

"You look like you are better than any man here that is for sure." Eva laughed cheerfully, if you could call the cacophonous eruptions from her mouth laughing, and slapped her on the back. Courtney's back lurched forward resulting in her doubling over.

"You are okay, but I must feed horses now." And with that Eva was gone. Courtney winced and pulled herself back up. She rubbed her back where Eva had slapped her. She looked over at Noah who had pulled out a book. She squinted through the shadows of the night and saw the familiar scratchings of the written portion of Kunthrar. Courtney interrupted Noah's reading, for she wanted some explanations.

"Why is Eva the only girl member?" Noah didn't respond, so she repeated the question. When he didn't answer again, she realized he was ignoring her. She barked his name in the commanding way she would address a servant who ignored her orders.

"_Noah!_" He answered in an indifferent tone without bothering to remove his eyes from his book.

"What."

"I asked you a question."

"No wonder Duncan was quick in dropping you here; you talk too much," he muttered. Courtney merely rolled her dark eyes. "Listen, Eva is the only girl simply because she is the only girl to be asked to. It's as simple as that."

"What do you mean asked?"

"Every person here was asked by Duncan personally himself. I believe Eva's story was that she and Duncan had a fight in a bar several years back and both of them were impressed by the other. Now she's working the slave route." Courtney raised an eyebrow.

"One minute you're interrogating me and the next you're indifferent. With your change in mood, that makes Eva not the only girl in your group."

"I'll gladly answer your questions if you care to answer mine. Where did you learn our language?" Noah asked with a hint of self-satisfaction. Courtney glowered at the seemingly uninterested man. He knew that he had leverage now, and she knew that he knew.

"What does it matter?" she asked.

"You tell me," he responded. He was testing her then. Courtney turned back to the fire. She inhaled and exhaled deeply in attempt to clear her mind. She began to calculate all the information she knew and all she knew of politics. Hopefully the answer could be deciphered with that accumulation of knowledge.

Why would it matter that one girl had knew a foreign language? No, Noah hadn't inquired about that. He wanted to know where she learned the language. The question was then why would it matter to a slave route record keeper? She always did like a challenge especially ones that required analysis. She wanted to keep Noah thinking she was a simple nobleman's daughter though, too. If she told him that she had scoured over the book in the royal library, well, it would be obvious she was more than a nobleman's daughter. She thought back to the aged material. The book had been bound in browned hide with fading yellow pages. The first word on a page had been what she had assumed was "hello" because the only word of her language scribed on the page was next to it. It was "hello" as well written very poorly; one letter was backwards. She wondered how the book came to be. How would Northern text find its way into her country?

The answer illuminated itself. She twisted sharply to stare at the book in Noah's hand. It was similarly bound in browned hide. The book at the library, it wasn't arranged as if it were a novel. No, the contents resembled more of a list, or a record. Courtney laughed dryly.

"You're not getting the book back." Noah shut his book and smiled broadly at her.

"So you're not a complete ignorant foreigner."

"Is the book yours?" she asked. Noah shook his head.

"It belonged to a record keeper over twenty years ago. It was stolen from him, but apparently nobody has been able to translate the book."

"Why bother getting the book back if nobody can translate it?" she asked.

"Because someday somebody will, and when that happens the slave trading will end because everybody will know what we have been doing and storm our country." Courtney glared at him.

"Good. Your country deserves to be invaded and put down," she retorted. Noah rolled his eyes.

"Say what you want, but at the end of the day I am still a free man and you are a slave to be sold. Whoever runs the route next year will just burn down your home under the assumption that the book is there." Courtney couldn't help but half smile at his comment. She wished luck to the small band of thieves in their efforts to burn down the royal library in the castle if they ever found out that was where the book was kept. But she noted Noah did not mention Duncan.

"What do you mean by whoever runs the route next year? Wouldn't it be Duncan again?"

"You do not know then. Duncan planned on retiring this year, and with the capture of you, his goal is more attainable than ever." Courtney was puzzled. She prodded Noah for more information. A successful person in their trade, whatever it may be, did not simply return in their prime.

"Duncan has a girl back home. She is a wild little thing, a gypsy they say. Some say she bewitched his heart, but that is only the talk of women. Anyway, he fell for her and her mysterious ways, but when he proposed she refused him. She told him that she could not be joined to a man who sold the souls of many to others." Noah stopped his narration to explain the beliefs of the gypsies in his land to Courtney. "Gypsies are, for the most part, benevolent people as long as you give them no reason for vengeance. But freedom is an essential component for their lifestyle. Freedom is their lifestyle. To take freedom is comparable to taking their soul. So, there was conflict between Duncan and his woman. But, she read his palm and told him when he returned to her finished with selling souls he would be able to marry his foreign love. This is Duncan's last trade. With the extra money he will get from selling you, he will have enough money to settle down with his gypsy love." After hearing the story, Courtney felt a heaviness descend on her shoulders. Her escape felt more improbable now than ever knowing that she was the key to Duncan being able to marry the love of his life.

She didn't speak to Noah anymore that night. She sat quietly by the fire and lost herself in her mind. Dozens of escape plans entered her head, but were promptly disregarded. She needed a plan that could be executed perfectly, no room for recapture. The situation became pass fail. She either passed and escaped enslavement completely, or failed with Duncan's wrath to endure if she was caught.

Duncan returned eventually. He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her up. She didn't say a word, but let him lead her back to his tent. Once inside he picked up a long piece of chain off the ground. It was two metal cuffs connected by six or seven feet of chain. He attached one cuff to her left wrist and the other cuff to his right. She crossed her arms and cried out indignantly, "Why on Earth are we chained together?" Duncan just looked at her as if to say "really?" She continued to glare at him.

"Have you bothered to notice _Princess _that we are standing on stone? I cannot stake you down here, and I have to tie you up somehow," he responded as if the answer was the most obvious observation.

"You don't have to tie me up at all."

"Yes, I do."

"No you don't. In fact," she stepped closer to Duncan. She forgot how much taller he was to her, and she had to look slightly upwards to look him in the eye. "You don't even have to sell me. My parents would pay triple what you would get for me. They'd pay you everything they had to get me back. What you're doing, all the effort, is pointless." Duncan shook his head in disbelief.

"I am not negotiating the situation. We both know as soon as I let you run back to your little castle you would tell everybody who had ears about me, about my business, and about my country. I would be endangering the lives of everybody in my nation by letting you return home. My men have family back home. You could not pay me enough, sweetheart, to accept the money that also means the death of those back home." Courtney screamed with fury. She placed both hands on Duncan's chest and pushed him backward. She caught him by surprise and therefore successfully managed to force him several steps backward. "I hate you!" she screamed. She lunged forward again, but Duncan was ready for her this time, and he grabbed her open hands. She thrashed in his hands violently. Her anger had gotten the best of her.

"What do you think you are going to do?" he asked calmly. She yanked and struggled aggressively against his grip on her hands.

"I'm going to strangle you with this chain," she jeered. She ripped her hands free and without pause tumbled into Duncan. Both fell to the ground, and she grabbed the excess chain and moved towards Duncan's neck. Duncan shouted in surprise.

"You're crazy!" he rolled away from Courtney's reach and pulled his right arm hard. The chain tightened and jerked all the chain in Courtney's hands out from her. She abandoned her wild murder ideas and jumped straight onto Duncan's chest. He instinctively reached for her forearms as she landed on him and used her momentum and his leverage on her arms to flip her onto her back. She kicked madly at the man sitting on top of her.

"It's not fair! I hate you! You take everything from me and you don't deserve to live a happy life," she cried. Duncan tilted his head confused.

"I'm not taking everything from you." Courtney laughed sarcastically.

"Everything I have is gone now. My home, my family, my kingdom, my freedom- "

"You still have your life. Although if you keep attacking me, I'll have to end it," he threatened. Courtney laughed even more.

"End it? We both know you'd never do that because then you would lose all the money I would bring in to support you and your rogue woman back home." Duncan's face darkened. His grip on her arms tightened painfully. She cried out at the increased pressure.

"My life is none of your business," he warned. He released her abruptly and stood up. "This fight is over. We're heading out in only a few hours, and we could both use the rest." Duncan set up a couple of blankets several feet apart. Courtney was forced to resign to one as Duncan the other. He gave her a couple of animal fur blankets before soundlessly going to sleep.

Courtney felt humiliated at confronting Duncan. She didn't have the experience to win, but she felt like she had to do something. She had the urge to just reach out and touch him, hit him. Sometimes Duncan was a decent guy, but at the end of the day he was still selling her. Courtney closed her eyes. She hoped that, if she was unlucky, she would wake up and discover everything to be a horrid nightmare.

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><p>Duncan awoke before just a few hours later. He knew from the landscape that the air was cold and the wind would blow without mercy outside his tent. He also knew he had to rise up and gather his men in the inclimate weather, but perhaps that could wait a few more minutes. This would most likely be the last time he was in this region anyway. Duncan's thoughts swirled around his love back home, and he found himself inadvertently smiling. He missed her. He replayed their first meeting for the hundredth time in his head, reliving the endearing moment.<p>

He had watched the gypsies arrive the same day and establish camp. He had been in the middle of preparing for his next slave route but had taken the time on the beautiful summer day to admire the comely, barely covered gypsy women meander about. She stood out from her lot though, and that was what stood out to him. While all her companions were tanned somehow she had managed to maintain a porcelain skin tone. She dressed more modestly than her female companions and in darker clothing, dark blues and black. He swaggered up and spoke his smoothest pick up line in his silkiest voice. She laughed at him to his surprise. She endured his advances, amused if anything else. She never divulged herself to him as much as Duncan did, but that was what made her so deliciously mysterious. Her lone wolf attitude reminded Duncan of himself. She was dark, pessimistic, and somewhat bitter, but alluring nonetheless. Once he returned home and sold his last roundup of slaves, he could finally be with her, his black rose.

Duncan sighed. He knew he needed to get everything going. Normally he would let his men sleep till daylight, but with a princess in his hands, he didn't want to risk staying in the country any longer than needed. He moved to roll onto his side in order to push himself up, but he immediately sensed something holding him on his back. Duncan's froze instinctively and squinted in the darkness, muscles tensed to fight. He wasn't prepared though for what he made out.

Courtney's small frame was lying next to him, her blankets wrapped loosely around her, and her unchained arm was wrapped around his chest. Duncan stared a little longer at her. The woman infuriated him when she was awake, but asleep she wasn't as terrible. He observed her as if he were a client looking at the market. She was young and female. She was tremendously shaped and had an appealing face. She was a good height, not too tall or too short. She had a temper and was obstinate but was one of the cleverest people he knew. She would be sold more as a prize though. A trophy object for someone to show off and exclaim "I bought a beautiful princess. What did you buy?" He knew she would infuriate whoever bought her though, and he grinned at the thought of Courtney heckling her future owner.

Yes, he would definitely miss her. She riled him in a way he couldn't ignore, and truthfully, he enjoyed pushing her emotions. He liked to watch her eyes blaze with rage and her nose crinkle with distaste. She was one of a kind he had to admit.

He stopped thinking. Something inside him, a voice or his subconscious, told him that thinking this much about one woman who wasn't his future wife back home was a no-no. He focused on the woman resting next to him. Normally he would jostle her awake and let her become embarrassed and enraged at herself, but he didn't. Instead, he placed his head back on his blanket and shook his right hand back and forth enough to jingle the chain. Sure enough, the sound of the chain scraping across the stone ground created stirring in Courtney's body. He closed his eyes. He felt the body next to him shift around before immobilizing. A few seconds went by and gradually the body slipping away. The jangling of the chain indicated Courtney's movements away from him, and he let at least fifteen minutes pass before pretending to awaken.

He felt some pity for the princess. Perhaps, just this once, he would do something nice for her. As long as she didn't find out, everything would continue as normal. He would taunt her, she would yell at him. Their relationship wouldn't move beyond that. A pang stabbed Duncan's heart at the prospect. Yes, he would miss his princess.

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><p>I feel like this chapter was unorganized and rushed…because it was a little? I'm thinking maybe some fluff moments next chapter, because some fluff would be nice, yeah? I felt like there wasn't enough when they were together in the series. Let me know if you see typos or oddly worded sentences. I didn't proof read this chapter as carefully, but I will later after class.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Finals are coming up, so this is the last chapter before Christmas time. I'm thinking about uploading a Christmas one-shot as well that's DxC. I wish I could have written more romance, but I didn't want to throw it out of nowhere. Enjoy

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><p>Courtney attempted to disregard the position she awoke to find herself in that morning. Clearly, she was not to blame for any alleged cuddling, or, that was what she practiced to say in the case that Duncan woke up before she did. But, when she awoke, he was sound asleep on his back. She had moved cautiously to the side as far as the chain would reach and turned away from the barbaric creature she was attached to. Duncan eventually rose and still hadn't spoken to her. It was nearing midday, and Courtney was stationed behind Duncan on his horse, as usual. She furrowed her dark eyebrows in suspicion. He hadn't spoken to her all morning in fact. Normally he would have mouthed off some immature, lewd comment but he was silent as a rock. Not that Courtney missed their bantering or anything. She was only curious about the silence. No concern, only curiosity was what she told herself.<p>

The path that the caravan had taken was a rocky, seemingly impassable path through the mountains. The carriages barely fit on the path, and loose rocks made for trickery traveling. One minute your horse is trotting along, and the next he's stumbling close to the edge. The first time Duncan's horse underwent momentary imbalance, Courtney shrieked with panic and dug her nails into Duncan's side and tugged tight on his chest. In response, Duncan groaned with discomfort and nearly twisted off his saddle. After the minor incident, Courtney was reprimanded harshly for her actions.

"What the hell were you thinking? You do not dig your nails into my chest when I'm trying to adjust the horse."

"Get a better horse."

"Do it again, and you'll be walking barefoot along the pass," Duncan threatened lowly. Courtney only tightened her grip on his abdomen. Rather soon after, they reached a fork in the road, if one could call what they were traversing a road. One path led upwards, and Courtney could see that the road became narrower to the point in which it disappeared into the mountainside. The other path led straight ahead and seemed to continue regularly. Courtney was surprised when Duncan turned his horse onto the narrower path moving upward. She wanted to ask him what kind of idiot attempted to travel on a narrower road, but she sensed an irritation in him that morning and decided to let Duncan do his thing. A few hundred feet passed and Courtney gripped tighter on his side. The path was _very _narrow. One wagon was scraping the edge of the rock wall to prevent itself from toppling. Duncan stopped next to an outcropping of mountain creeper. Courtney had seen pictures of mountain creeper in a flora identification book. Mountain creeper was a variety of vine that lived in colder, high altitude environments. Essentially the creeper grew downwards unlike the vines that grew upwards around the castle. The creeper placed root in soil located in crevices or outcroppings and the vine grew downwards, hugging the wall.

Duncan made an order and pointed to the mountain creepers. Two men leapt off the seats of a wagon nearby and reached out to the creepers. To Courtney's astonishment, behind the vines was an opening in the mountain instead of a gray rock wall. The opening was wide enough for one wagon to approach at a time, and the beginnings of wagon rut indentions could be made out.

"What is this?" Courtney asked with a voice filled with amazement. Duncan disregarded her and guided his horse towards the entrance. He breached the entryway and indicated for Courtney to get down. She slowly slipped to the ground and he followed. As he strolled to the closes wagon there was a flurry of motion. Men were digging around into their wagons and pulling out lanterns, but she noted that nobody had gas or combustible liquid in their lanterns to light.

Duncan returned with a box the size of his hand that had a plug attached to the side and an empty lantern. He wordlessly handed the lantern to Courtney who grabbed the lantern clumsily. He opened a small door on the side of the lantern and lined the plug with the opening. In one fluid motion he removed the plug and shoved the box to the opening of the lantern. The lantern began to fill rapidly with moving light. Courtney gasped with excitement. She peered closer to the inner lantern while Duncan closed the latch. Inside were hundreds of glowing insects. They flew and bumped into each other and the glass of the lantern. Duncan shouted a command and the wagon train began to move forward. He grabbed the reins of his horse and she walked at his side holding the lantern.

The path in the cave would have been very dangerous without light. There were a couple of forks in the road and sharp turns and even sharper declines. The darkness and enclosed space didn't bother Courtney in the least, but the silence was a bit unsettling. She assumed the rest of the troop felt the same, for she easily heard the consistent chattering of Duncan's men.

"What are the insects?" Courtney asked in attempt to create conversation.

"They are a variety of glowing things from a country to the south. Well, it's more of an island. I traded a few people for a large wagon of them several years back." Courtney scoffed.

"Did you really have to trade stolen people for them? You couldn't have used fire?"

"Oh, slave traders have tried to use fire and the natives before them, but there is something in the walls that explodes near fire. So, we have to find other sources of light. I got a good deal on the bugs, so I breed them back home and make sure I have enough every year to make the journey." The road dipped fiercely and continued to decline. The group traveled more slowly down the stony path.

"Do you know why they glow?" she asked. The creatures were fascinating to observe. They had something similar back home, but the fireflies didn't maintain a constant glow.

"The jungle on the island has an unusual glowing species of poisonous jungle flower, and it has something to do with that." Courtney's eyes lit up like the glowing bugs.

"Of course! They're mimicking the flowers. Animals know not to eat the glowing flowers, so the bugs glow too," she gushed. Duncan laughed dryly.

"Yeah, something like that."

The rest of the journey through the cave was in silence, but the trek ended in just a few hours. The sharp decline leveled out, and Courtney spied a small speck of sunlight shining through like a beacon of promise. Duncan gave the order to return all the glow insects to their boxes. Soon the light became more prominent. Unlike on the mountainside, the opening wasn't covered by vegetation. It was just an opening in the mountain. Courtney's eyes watered from the transition of darkness to sunlight. The tunnel in the mountain had led to the direct bottom of the small mountain range. Currently, Duncan's scoundrel band of thieves was gathering in the barren clearing near the opening. Lanterns were being placed back into the wagons and men were clapping each on the back. They all acted as if they had won a war besides merely walking through a mountain. Courtney turned to Duncan who was busy feeding his horse something from his pocket. Before opening her mouth, she paused. The sunlight was pouring into the clearing and reflected well on his features. His face was lit up in a smile, and his teal eyes were bright with content. Even his barbaric metal piercings seemed less…revolting than before. Perhaps it was just relief from being out of the mountains she was feeling.

"Why is everybody over excited?" she asked. Duncan's smile disappeared and transformed into a smirk.

"Because we are on the last stretch now. No more hiding or sneaking around. We can take the main roads now straight back to my estate," he replied.

"You have an estate?" Courtney asked incredulously.

"Sure do sweet cheeks," he waggled his eyebrows provocatively, "Would you like a private tour later?" Courtney scoffed with disdain and pivoted on her heel away from him. Duncan only laughed and tugged on her arm. "We're setting up camp early tonight which basically means there's going to be some drinking and rowdiness." Courtney rolled her eyes. "So you need to stay in my tent."

"Maybe I don't want to be in your profane company when you're intoxicated," Courtney replied airily. Duncan laughed sarcastically.

"Maybe I am not going to be drinking, your royal headache." Quick as lightening, men were already setting up camp. Duncan's tent was being constructed in the heart of the encampment, but Courtney noticed that the wagons, which when normally circled up, usually left thirty feet in-between wagons, left less than ten feet of room between the front of one wagon and the back of another. The tent was done though, for the men had assembled and dissembled it many times. Duncan escorted her inside and dutifully brought out the chains. Rather than the chain with the stake, it was the same chain from the previous night. He attached one cuff to her right wrist and the other cuff to one of the corner poles supporting the tent.

"What are you doing?" Courtney couldn't help but ask.

"It's rained recently, so the soil is looser, more wet. You could probably pull the stake out of the ground if I tried to pin you that way. This way at least will let me know if you try to escape. You'll have to take the whole tent down to get away." Courtney yanked angrily on the chain.

"You can't just leave me here! I have to go to the bathroom, and I want food and water," she demanded. Duncan groaned, but moved towards her.

"Okay. One bathroom break, and a little food and water, but then you're going back to the tent."

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><p>The night was weary. The dinner Courtney had been served had been nothing more than a slice of bread with a cup of river water. Afterwards Duncan had promptly returned back to the tent. The sun fell out of the sky and left inky night in its place. She could see the firelight through the sides of the tent, but not the warmth. She huddled closer to the ground. At least the wind wasn't blowing. She hadn't seen Duncan since he left. She thought she could hear him, but all the speakers of the strange language sounded alike. Homesickness washed over her again. The pain was sharp, like a knife, versus the long drawn out pain from before. She realized how short of a time she had to free herself and Stefan. But she knew. She clutched at her dress so hard she could see her knuckles turn white in the darkness. She knew what she had to do though. It would be a miracle if she could escape herself, but to find Stefan in the middle of the open camp and find a way to free him and all the other guards?<p>

She imagined leaving without him, and her breath hitched into her throat. She couldn't leave Stefan, but she knew what she had to do and what Stefan would tell her. He would tell her to save herself, that she was more important than him or his men. Even if she escaped now, it would take her weeks to find a town in her country if she made it through the mountains. Then, she had to reach the capital and rally support to attack to retrieve Stefan back. By that time, he might be sold and shipped to a country months away from her. What was more important to her? Her freedom at the price of Stefan's, or losing an opportunity for freedom in order to figure out a way to escape with him?

She sighed deeply and rubbed her tired eyes. Her morals told her to not leave without Stefan, but she was taught that her life was more important than anybody else's in the Kingdom.

She yawned loudly and blinked her eyes tiredly. Perhaps she should try to sleep. She would need all her strength regardless of the coming situation. She lied down on the blanket sprawled out for her but didn't close her eyes yet. She stared blankly ahead through the night. She wondered what she'd do if she couldn't escape at all. What if she was stuck as a slave somewhere doomed never to return home?

A new light flickered in the distance, somewhere in the camp. Duncan's men began to shout raucously. Courtney rolled her eyes even though no one could see her. Leave it to men to accidentally set something on fire. Another light began near where the first one had cropped up. It was small. Courtney sat up warily. The light was almost too small for a campfire. Footsteps were racing outside, and the shouting elevated.

Suddenly, something blazing came through the top of the cloth tent. It ripped a hole and landed in the middle of the ground, embedded in the earth. Courtney screamed reflexively and scuttled backwards. After her eyes adjusted to the sudden light, she looked closer at it. The object was an arrow, only entirely engulfed in flame. It remained harmlessly impacted in the earth, but Courtney looked up where the arrow had entered. There was an obvious hole from which the arrow had entered, but flames were now enlarging the entry. The flames were quickly consuming the top of the tent. Soon, if she didn't move, the whole tent would be on fire. Courtney unconsciously screamed and wrenched her chained wrist as hard as she could. Neither her hand nor the pole the cuff was attached to released. She began to panic. The flames covered over half of the ceiling now. She swiftly studied the pole she was chained to. It was embedded into the ground from what she could see, and it may have been tied down on the other side of the tent, but she couldn't be sure. She placed both hands on the pole and pulled upwards. The object slid a little bit, and then stopped. Courtney heaved again. The pole slide a little more that time. The flames were growing, and she ducked low to avoid the smoke and the fire.

Courtney focused all her will on moving the pole, and with a final jerk and battle cry, the pole slid free and the fiery tent collapsed. Courtney covered her face as the fiery structure fell forward onto her back. She instinctively rolled in the direction she sensed the fire hadn't consumed yet, but everywhere she rolled she felt the crushing heat and breathed the smothering smoke. She flailed her arms, searching for a break in the unburned cloth. She could feel the fire moving closer to her entangled feet. Her arm scraped at the cloth, but the cloth vanished and was replaced with cool, night air. Relieved, Courtney dug her hands into the earth beyond the tent and pulled herself forward out of the soon to be tomb. She looked up at the chaos.

Men were running everywhere. Some had weapons in their hands while others were holding bloodied body parts. The same language was being thrown about, so Courtney couldn't tell who was who. Between the blinding light of the fires and inky blackness of the night, she couldn't find anybody she knew. The circle had broken. She could see that. Half of the wagons had regrouped at a distance sandwiched between a line of men and the rocky wall of the mountains. The rest of Duncan's men were engaging the fighters in the immediate area.

She evaluated her options decisively. She was a sitting duck in the open, especially without a weapon. She needed cover, and the best place for that would be at the wagons being defended by the mountain walls. Second, she needed to blend in more. A girl running around a brawl in a fancy dress would stick out too much for her safety.

Her dark eyes scanned the scene. About twenty feet away was a supply wagon. Perhaps there'd be something in there she could use. She checked to make sure nobody was paying attention to the burning tent and then sprinted. She ducked low and ran as low to the ground as possible. She dived forward and crawled behind one of the wagon's wheels. She peered around at the fighting and swung herself into the back when she hoped nobody was looking. She stayed on her stomach, for no one could see her as long as they didn't look directly in the wagon, and frantically scoured the bags and boxes. In one bag she found a small cooking knife. She moved on to opening all the crates in her reach. A crate in the back corner of the wagon held somebody's spare clothes. She steadied the knife in her right hand and rolled onto her back. She held the comely gown in her left hand one final time before swiftly using the knife to jaggedly slice her dress at the thigh. She awkwardly continued slicing through the back and tossed the remains of the dress aside. She donned a pair of pants and yanked on a dark jacket. She cinched the jacket at the waist to cover up the top of her dress. The last touch was to tuck her long brown hair into the back of her top. She hoped she could pull off the appearance of a man, but not attract too much attention.

Two men who had been wrestling knocked into the wagon. She took the surprise as a hint to leave. She hauled herself out of the wagon and dropped low to the ground. The sound of metal knocking against metal resounded across the clearing like threatening wind chimes. Courtney held onto the knife for protection, not that she had the experience to be threatening with it though, and stealthily made her way through the brawl. She wondered idly if Duncan even remembered she was supposed to be chained to the tent that was now a pile of ash. She held tightly onto the chain in her hands. It was awkward with the chain still attached to one wrist. She held as much of the chain as she could so as not to decrease her movement, but it was still restricting. She briefly dabbled in the idea of using the fight as an opportunity to escape. The timing was almost perfect. The only hitch was Stefan and his guards. The answer was apparent though. She would have to leave him. She didn't want to, no, but she had to accept that trying to save Stefan was her one roadblock at her opportunity for freedom. He'd understand.

She changed course for the woods. It was easy to hide in a crowd, but she would have to run several yards to reach the cover of the woods, and running in an empty clearing might attract attention. Perhaps she wouldn't have to run though. She dodged and remained under cover until she reached a wagon on the outskirts of the broken circle that was closes to the woods. She crouched near wheel. Maybe if she got on her stomach and crawled, she could make it to the woods and-

Somebody belted out something. Her hair was gripped roughly and she lashed out to grip the hands pulling at her. Her whole body yielded, and her body was yanked upright. She was twisted around and looked into the eyes of a dirty, broad, rough looking man. He shouted. She shook her head and tried to plead with her eyes that she couldn't understand him. He pointed at the chain in her hand, but she didn't say a word. The man's hand slid down the back of her head. Maybe he was intending to grab her by the back of the neck, but his eyes widen with astonishment when he discovered the rest of her hair tucked away. Not only was she being handled by the attacking party, she assumed, but they now knew she was a girl. The only girl, the only person, that was running around with a chain attached to their wrist. It didn't take an ignorant barbarian to understand she was worth something, and that she was not where she was supposed to be.

The man grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. She tried to scream, but another man was already shoving a rag into her mouth. The man carrying her must have heard someone, for he turned around. She couldn't see because her face was looking the opposite way, but soon enough the man turned back around and headed towards the tree line. Using the light from the burning fires, Courtney could see a shape struggling to free itself from the holds of at least four men. Courtney's stomach jumped to her throat. Even in the dim lighting she knew it was Duncan. She shouted his name, but it was muffled by the rag. She kicked her feet in attempt to knock loose from the constraints of the other man, but he grabbed her legs and held them together. The last time she saw Duncan before she was too far away to make out his shape, a man had hit him on the back of the head, and Duncan went down.

The man didn't travel far into the tree line. Courtney was filled with fury, a red rage. She wasn't going to give up and give in. She quickly grabbed onto the man's hair like he did hers and pulled hard. He howled with alarm and dropped her. A voice in her head yelled at her to keep moving, keep attacking. With a shout she kicked him hard between the knees. After he had fallen to his knees, clutching himself, she lifted her right leg back and swung it as hard as she could into his face. She felt satisfied with the feeling of heel to nose. He fell over, one hand clutching his face and other his groin. She triumphantly pulled the rag out of her mouth and dropped it at the man's feet.

She turned to run back to camp when she was faced with four men standing in her way. All she held was the now pitiful looking knife. She surveyed the situation for a split second before pivoting on her heel and running deeper into the woods. There was no feasible way she could take on all four of them. She stumbled over an upraised root and went crashing into the underbrush. She could hear their collective footsteps getting closer. She crawled carefully into a bush and waited. Within seconds the men came running passed. She held her breath. They didn't stop, and after every one of them passed she exhaled, relieved. She cautiously crawled out and sprinted back towards the direction of camp. She was surprised it had been that easy to-

A tree limb burst into her line of vision and slammed into her face. She fell backwards and shouted with pain. She felt blood spilling from her nose as well as her mouth. Both her cheeks felt bruised, too. She covered her nose with her unchained hand and looked up to the source of the sudden tree limb appearing. The man she had kicked in the face stood over her with an equally bloodied and bruised face except now he was sporting a tree limb. She swiped at his leg with her knife but he kicked it out of her hand. He smoothly reached for her and picked her up by her jacket collar. She squealed with indignation, but he ignored her. She was slammed painfully against the side of a tree. Again, she shouted. The bark dug into her back as well as rubbed against her head too hard. The man shook her, hard. Dizziness swarmed her eyes. _Wham! _Her head was forced to the side as his hand collided with her cheek. The hit was so hard she thought her head was going to pop off her neck. She closed her mouth tight in order to prevent any more sounds of pain from escaping. The man was shouting at her in an arrogant manner, but he was no longer holding both of her shoulders against the tree. Her right shoulder and therefore arm was free.

She reacted quickly. She turned and bit down on the hand holding down her other shoulder. There was a brief moment in which the man released her left shoulder and clutched at his injured hand. Courtney used her now free hand to grab her lengthy chain to throw around the man's thick neck. She clumsily caught the chain with her right hand and tugged hard towards the left. The chain formed a type of noose around the guy's neck, and he blanched and scrabbled at the chain restricting his airways. Courtney pulled as hard as she could. She didn't stop until she saw the man's face turn blue. She released the chain and he dropped to the ground. He was gasping for breath, but she didn't think he would attack so soon. He yanked on her legs and down she went with a surprised yelp. He tried to speak, but his voice was too hoarse. He instead lunged for her neck. She screamed as loudly as she could before he effectively squeezed on her windpipe. She grabbed his hands that were grabbing her neck and tried to breath. She couldn't.

A figure moved, and that's all she saw. Next, the hands on her neck were gone; she instinctively inhaled as much air as her lungs would allow. The man from before landed next to her lifelessly with a dull thud. She jumped with surprise and looked up.

Duncan stood only a few feet away, frowning at her.

"What were you thinking?" he demanded quietly. Courtney stammered, but he interrupted.

"You could have gotten yourself killed, you stupid bitch." Courtney scrambled to her feet and placed her hands on her hips.

"I am a lady, and you not use such language in my presence," she chided. Duncan's eyes lit with ferocity.

"A lady? Oh, well then I take it back. You're just an ungrateful, prideful, stupid _lady._" Courtney didn't respond. She only glared at him. "What were you thinking?" He stepped closer.

"I asked you what you were thinking!" he roared. Courtney flinched, but remained silent. "Do you even realize you could have been killed? As in dead?"

"Maybe that would better than staying with you," she finally shot back.

"You'd rather be dead than be in the company of one person?"

"I'd rather be dead than in chains!" she screamed. She attempted to whack him with the chain attached to her wrist, but he caught it with ease. He used the chain as leverage to pull her forward. He pulled until they were inches apart.

"Courtney, I do not want you to get yourself killed," he said quietly. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. Of course he was trying the guilt tactic. She was a girl. She practically owned the guilt tactic. She was not going to give in and feel guilty for trying to run away from Duncan.

"You don't care about me as a person, only a resource," she spit back hatefully. Now it was Duncan's turn to be silent. Courtney continued. "We're not friends, so don't pretend to care about my well being as a person. You just want to make sure your new toy doesn't get broken so you can sell it for a better price." Duncan shook his head.

"That's not true," he said quietly.

"What's not? What?" she demanded. Duncan leaned in close passed her face and up against her ear. He spoke very softly, like a whisper in the wind.

"I don't want my toy broken simply because nobody but me gets to touch what is mine." Courtney's face involuntarily reddened.

"Don't play games with me, Duncan. We both know you have intentions of selling your toys," she responded. Her voice was a little shaky, but she tried her best to sound as confident and knowledgeable as before. Duncan sighed.

"Unfortunately you're right Princess. You're one toy I wouldn't mind keeping around though," he said cheekily. She shoved him away lightly.

"Let's just go. You're tiring me." Duncan laughed good humorously.

"Whatever you say, Princess."

* * *

><p>When the duo returned to camp, Courtney was shocked to see the destruction that had been caused. Multiple wagons had been burned to ash as well as every other tent. The wagons with the captured slaves were under close surveillance while small groups of men were occupied with cleaning up the camp. Supplies were being salvaged from the burnt wagons, and a huddle of men was nursing burns. Duncan quietly led Courtney over to one of the remaining unscathed tent.<p>

"I don't understand. What happened?" she asked. Duncan ran a hand through his hair and mumbled something. When she asked him again he shook his head.

"I'll come back and explain. Just, go inside and don't run off again. You're going to get yourself killed, honestly." He waited until she dutifully retreated into the tent and then left to tend to the destroyed camp. She waited inside the tent until Duncan returned some time later. He was dirty and exhausted. Remnants of soot and ash streaked his face and clothes, and he flopped onto the ground. Courtney narrowed her eyes and kicked him lightly with her foot from where she sat.

"What happened tonight?" she demanded. Duncan groaned loudly and covered his eyes with his hands. Courtney had to listen closely to hear him.

"It was an ambush. It was an attempt to capture the slaves brought over the border."

"Why wouldn't they go out and get their own stolen people?" Courtney asked.

"Because I convinced the King to make it illegal for anybody besides me and my company to engage in the slave trade outside of our country." There was a thick silence that followed before Courtney smiled.

"Very funny." Duncan sat up to scowl at her.

"I was being serious."

"Yeah, like you convinced the King of barbarians that only you can steal people? Are you the slave king?" she joked with a smirk on her face.

"Yes, we do in fact have a king. If you're fortunate enough, he might just make you his next investment," he shot back. Courtney's smirk turned into a discontented frown. "I was able to convince him that despite the money he might gain from an expanded slave trade, the risk of some bumbling fool exposing the slave trade in the countries where it is still a secret is too high. I convinced him that the trade best be left to the professionals, which is me. I've been in the trade my whole life as was the person who trained me."

"But why would people attack your company if they can't participate in the slave trade?" she asked, confused.

"The loophole is that once I bring the slaves back into our country or, for whatever reason, have a caravan of slaves in a country that participates in the buying of slaves, they're fair game. Anybody can steal them. I have the largest trade market, that is for sure, but the second largest trade market gets their slaves by either stealing already enslaved people or trying to steal mine."

"Who runs the other market?" Duncan waved his hand dismissively.

"He's nothing to worry about. Just a jerk with too much charm for his own good." Courtney waved her hands in front of her and shook her head, slightly confused.

"Wait, wait, wait. Okay, so only you can go into countries in which the slave market is unknown, which is based in your country, and you have to go to extremities to keep yourself unknown in those countries, yet the second largest and successful market just steals people from already slave prevalent areas?"

"Congratulations," Duncan said sarcastically, "You completely understood the last two minutes of conversation." Courtney glared at him.

"Hilarious. Why bother with all the secrecy and effort when you can just arrange the slave market through countries that actively participate?"

"Because people from the places where the slave market is unknown sell for a lot more. You're all exotic. One of my stolen souls is worth ten locally acquired ones." Courtney was disgusted with the prideful smirk on Duncan's face.

"You're despicable. You refer to people as objects, not human beings."

"Get over it Princess. It is business after all." Courtney had more questions for Duncan, but before she could ask, he stood up and left the small tent. He returned shortly with a wet rag. He settled down close in front of Courtney and reached for her face. She flinched reflexively away from his touch, and he hesitated.

"You have blood all over your face. You should let me clean it." Courtney stared warily at the rag, but gave in. Duncan cautiously placed one hand against the side of her face and began to slowly rub off the dried blood. Courtney felt compelled to look at his face as his washed hers, and she could see the concentration in his teal eyes as he worked. Neither of them said a word as he worked.

He finished some time later with a small smile.

"Next time, how about you leave the fighting to a man, all right?" She knew he was trying to a joke about her sex, but she was still looking at his face, attempting to read his eyes.

"You know," he started. He turned away and became busy with putting the rag away. He faced away from her. "When I saw the tent falling down and almost completely in flame, I was worried." Courtney rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure you were." Duncan turned his head enough to look over at her. She had a look of doubt on her face. He scowled, but she could see he was slightly hurt. He shook it off though and regained his aloof, sarcastic demeanor.

"Here's the new plan, Princess. I'll agree to keep the chains off, but for your own sake, I highly, _highly _recommend you do not run off. Not only can I guarantee to catch you within the hour, but until I reach my estate, there will be more bandits trailing us like wolves tracking a wounded deer. If they find you first before I do, they will do a lot more damage than I ever would."

"How about I give it my best go and you see how well I can handle myself," she countered. Duncan cried out with fury and reached out for her again. He firmly pushed her to the ground and leaned over so very close to her face.

"You are too stubborn for your own good. Listen to me Courtney. You will not make it far without protection, without me. If you try to run, you will not make it far in the least. You don't believe me, but I honestly wouldn't want to see you killed," Duncan spoke in a serious, deep tone.

"I don't care what you- "

"I know you're going to say I don't care about you as a person, or something like that, but you are wrong. I care about you as something worth a lot of money to me, but as a person as well. I am not a monster, as much as you'd like to make me out to be, and I do not want to see a pretty, clever, feisty thing as yourself killed or taken advantage of. If you can't promise you won't run away, I'll chain you up, but only because it is for your own protection." She studied his flushed face, trying to make a judge of his outburst. Something in her gut told her that there was truth in Duncan's words. There possessed some degree of rationality, and to sleep at night without chains sounded tempting. But could she promise not to run away? She looked carefully up at the young man on top of her staring impatiently back. She could say yes, and then if she had the opportunity to escape, do it anyway. Perhaps Duncan was right, even for being a vile creature. He didn't abuse her any at all, or touch her really much. He was, at the time, the lesser of two evils. She wasn't sure herself if she could really make it back to the border the farther from it they traveled. For now, she could stay with Duncan until she could find a means of getting back safely by herself. She sighed in defeat.

"I promise, Duncan, that I won't try to run again." Duncan's eyes lit up with excitement.

"And you will not leave me side. Say it." Courtney scrunched up her nose with disgust.

"No. Think again."

"Say it." The two individual's stubbornness was a match for each other. Courtney glared at Duncan and he smirked back at her. She broke first.

"Fine. I won't leave your side. Now get off me," she huffed. Duncan leaned off her and helped her to sit up with a large, wolfish grin on his face.

"You know, I'm going to miss the chains. They were a fitting look on you." Courtney waited for him to continue, practically expecting him to say something vulgar. "Especially when you were in them in my private tent," he finished with a waggle of his eyebrows. Courtney rolled her eyes, but cracked a small smile.


	5. Chapter 5

Time passed quickly over the next week. There were no more nights spent in tents on the ground, which Courtney was thankful for.

The day after the fire had started off as a somber one, but quickly cheered up as the group passed through the first town. Courtney wrinkled her nose up at the dirty townsfolk and grungy buildings, but the rest of the men were ecstatic. Several paused on the trail to gossip with people they were acquainted with, but Duncan didn't stop. As night fell, Courtney asked Duncan about stopping for the night.

"Don't worry about it. There's a town a few more miles up ahead that we're going to stop at. I know a guy there that will put us up for the night." Courtney raised an eyebrow even though Duncan wasn't looking at her to see it.

"Put us up? I had no idea Duncan that you were a charity case." She heard him laugh sarcastically.

"It's not charity doll. I'm paying him to allow everybody to camp on his turf."

"Ha, I'm surprised you and your people own personal property," she jibed. It was merely seconds later she realized the redundancy of her statement. Duncan pointed it out with a smirk in his tone.

"Of course we do. Otherwise we couldn't buy and sell mouthy wenches like yourself and privately enjoy our property." Courtney groaned.

The group reached the neighboring town and found the rest stop for the night within the hour. As Duncan and her dismounted, he handed her a large, dark gray hooded cloak. She grasped the material skeptically between her thumb and forefinger.

"Er, what is this for?" she asked.

"To eat," He said sarcastically. "No, to wear."

"Why?" She was still dressed in somebody's pants and jacket. Along with her mussed hair and dirty face, she deemed herself unidentifiable.

"I want your appearance to remain a mystery up until the day I unveil you to show." Courtney begrudgingly donned the shabby garment. It was made of a heavy material that clung to her frame. The hood engulfed her head and shadowed her face completely. She looked through the hood at Duncan. He looked her over once and pulled the hood lower on her face.

"Keep your head down. The lighting will be dim in the inn, but I still don't want anyone to see you."

Courtney followed Duncan into the inn along with a couple of his whom she assumed were his top men. She watched out the window as Duncan talked to the man. Duncan must not have had much to negotiate, for his men were already setting up camp. The inn was near the outskirts of the town, and so there was just enough room outside to park the wagons. The wagons with prisoners were pressed tight against the side of the building while a protective circle of storage wagons surrounded them. Some men were beginning to pass around food while others hauled water for drinking. A pump resigned near the inn, and Courtney watched men pump water into buckets to pass around the prisoner wagons. She peered hard through the dirty window panes, but she couldn't see Stefan anywhere.

Duncan came up behind her.

"Our room's ready," he announced. Courtney whirled around from the window and sneered at him with contempt. She crossed her arms and commanded a condescending tone.

"I was not under the premise we were sharing a room."

"I was not either, but the inn keeper has spare rooms unbooked tonight, and once he heard of how top secret and expensive you were, he threw a room in for free along with the charge to camp outside." Courtney tried to glare at him, but she realized he wouldn't be able to see her underneath the hood. She followed Duncan's impatient form up the stairs.

"Is it any safer? What about everybody outside?" she asked hurriedly. Duncan groaned with irritation. He muttered a slew of words under his breath.

"Do you have to know everything? Can't you just roll with what is going on without questioning it? Don't think, just do," he finally responded. Courtney shrugged.

"I think I am entitled to knowing the truth since I am to be sold to a stranger someday." Duncan led the two of them to at the end of the corridor. He ignored her previous statement and led them both into the room. Courtney stole a peek at the room from beneath her hood and instantly cringed. The room was small, hardly ten feet long. It was only wide enough to squeeze a bed at the far wall. To her right upon entering the room was a window that faced the encampment of Duncan's men against the building. There was merely one rickety bedside table to accompany the bed in the meager space. Duncan approached the window and spied upon his men outside.

"Perfect. I can keep track of you and my team from here. It'll do for now." Courtney huffed with indignation, and Duncan ignored her grumblings, as usual. A noise at the doorway caused both Courtney and Duncan to swivel. Two men stood in the hallway. One was a man Courtney didn't recognize, but the second was Noah. Courtney unconsciously smiled beneath her hood at the sight of a familiar face besides Duncan.

The unfamiliar man began speaking to Duncan who responded with a slur of sounds. He moved towards Courtney and pulled her close.

"I have to go down to the camp and have a quick word with my lead men. Do not leave this room or speak to anyone, understood? My men are spread out at the moment, and I have told the innkeeper that you are not to be seen outside of the room. Noah here is going to watch you from the doorway, so do not try anything idiotic. I will be back in five minutes." Courtney nodded glumly in the shadows of her cover. Duncan stared at her for a few seconds longer. His mouth opened as if to speak again, but he closed it and left abruptly. The unfamiliar man left with Duncan, but Noah remained stationed in the hallway. Courtney crossed the room and sat lightly on the edge of the musty bed. She lowered her hood and crossed her arms, staring at Noah.

"Why you? You don't seem to be someone who could constrain someone," she teased. Noah gazed indifferently at her.

"I actually came up to talk to Duncan about the book you tried to read from," he replied. Courtney shrugged her shoulders, attempting to seem impassive, and reached for the clasp on the cloak.

"A book is hardly enough to entice Duncan. You're wasting your time." She unclipped the heavy cloak. If she wasn't going to leave the room, there would be no need for the overbearing material. She glanced up at Noah who was watching her closely. Even at the distance between them, Courtney spotted a difference in Noah's character. She smiled knowingly at Noah's shift in stance and slight increase in interest. She felt wolfish in character then. She eyed Noah like a predator watching prey from a distance, calculating and brimming with anticipation. She slowly gripped the material and dropped it to the floor. She watched Noah watch the garment flutter to the floor. She stretched out lazily on the bed and stared at him with a hint of disdain.

"But I suppose that Duncan's the only person who can retrieve the book. You'd be incapable of sneaking into my house and stealing it back yourself." She looked him over smoothly. "You lack the skills Duncan has." She turned onto her side away from Noah and smiled to herself, her eyes glittering darkly.

"Why risk my life when Duncan can do it?" was all Noah responded. Courtney huffed silently to herself, but changed tactics. She rolled over quickly and sat up. She stared at Noah with wide, unmasked eyes. She acted confused.

"You are so intelligent Noah. Why doesn't Duncan see that?" Her retort caught Noah off guard and he stood still for several seconds. He stepped hesitantly forward into the room. He shook his head, his face smothered with indignation.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do," Courtney replied lowly, yet tenderly. She was playing on a bet that Duncan responded better to men who had brawn, not brains. She suspected Noah, being intelligent and knowing it, would feel underappreciated. Typical man, of course. "I don't think you need him, Noah. " The man before her looked at her with suspicion. She raised herself off the bed and moved towards the window. She stole a glance at him from over her shoulder. The disinterested expression normally adorning his face had returned. She twirled and leaned against the window sill. Her hands delicately gripped the wooden sill. She half smiled at him.

"What all do you know about my country? I know nothing about yours and you must know so much about mine." Noah shrugged apathetically.

"We had a good haul this year because of the upcoming wedding," he replied. A glimmer of sadness etched across Courtney's face. The wedding, of course. Everybody knew about it then. Noah rolled his eyes with annoyance.

"What? Disappointed you're not the lucky girl to catch the prince's heart?" Courtney hardened her stare. Noah didn't know that the crown prince of the country was her older brother. Soon, after her brother's marriage was completed, she would be next. She would have to leave home, again, if she ever could escape from the current nightmare.

"No more than you would be," she responded curtly. "With so many people partying, it must have been easy to go from town to town and steal people. Nobody will notice a few drunken people to go missing."

"It's not that easy. Your guardsmen caught up with us." He stopped speaking to look her over suspiciously. "You must be pretty important to have so many guardsmen trying to rescue you. Who's your father?" Courtney waved her hand dismissively.

"Some noble."

Steps echoed from the hallway. Voices rebounded and reached both Courtney's and Noah's ears. Immediately, Duncan appeared in the doorway. He glared at the smaller man standing in the room.

"You can go now." Noah crossed his arms and glimpsed between Duncan and Courtney. Duncan's frown deepened.

"I said, go." Noah suddenly remembered why he had wanted to speak with Duncan. He approached the taller man and tried to speak.

"Actually, Duncan, I wanted to ask-"

"No." Noah's eyes widened with surprised.

"But, you don't even know-"

"I don't care. Now go back to whatever you were doing before you wasted my time coming up here." Noah glowered at his boss before slinking out the door. Duncan looked over at Courtney standing by the window. He sighed with exasperation. He tugged her away from the dirty windows panes that hardly allowed visibility into the outer world.

"Stay away from the window. I don't want anyone to see you." Courtney wrenched her arm free.

"I'm not a porcelain doll that you can hide away from the world." She hissed. Duncan only smiled.

"I brought food for you." He held out some type of fruit along with a chunk of bread. She rolled her eyes with contempt, but reached for the food nevertheless. She paused as her hands hovered above the sustenance. She scowled at her hands. Duncan had her trained to pick food out of his hands, like a domesticated cow. She pulled her hands back quickly and held them out in front of her, mimicking Duncan.

"Hand it to me," she commanded. Now it was Duncan's turn to scowl.

"What? Just take the food. This isn't a game."

"I'm not an animal. I'm not going to eat from your hands." She responded cooly.

"I'm not asking you to! Just take the food, woman."

"No! Hand it to me."

"I'm not your slave, you're mine. If anything, you should be on your knees begging me for food!" he shouted. He stepped forward as did she, and they leaned close together. Something was shoved roughly into her still open hands. She fumbled with the weight and instinctively looked down at her hands. Duncan had handed her the food after all. He shouldered passed her.

"Just eat, you crazy woman."

* * *

><p>People came and went for several more hours during the night. They reported every happening in the camp to Duncan. Horses were fed, prisoners were fed, rations were in good supply, this or that needed replacing, and so forth. Finally, the men stopped coming to Duncan and he shut the door for the final time that night. He locked it and double checked the locking mechanism. When he turned back around, Courtney could see exhaustion wash over his body.<p>

"Time for bed, doll face." Courtney merely removed her shoes and shed her jacket. She shimmied under the simple blanket adorning the bed and rolled towards the wall, away from Duncan's approaching form. From the padding of his steps, she figured he had removed his shoes as well. She attempted to ignore Duncan's presence and instead focus on the increased comfort of sleeping on a mattress rather than dirt or stone. A candle was silently extinguished and Courtney felt the bed dip. The beds were simple and possessed no pillows, but Courtney placed her head on her forearm and faced the dark wall.

Silence, then-

"Usually this is the happiest part of the whole ordeal. No more sneaking around, no more stealing, just simple riding back home. Then, after I get home, payment. This time though, I can't say I'm thrilled to be heading home." Courtney, with her curious mind and desire to capture knowledge like a spider catches a fly, couldn't help but replying softly next to him.

"What has changed?"

"Although I don't work the noblest of jobs, I've been in the trade my whole life. Soon, it'll all be over. I like my work, and I like the men I work with. They're good people." Courtney frowned in the night at Duncan's words.

"But you're quitting in order to get married. I would think you be excited for that," she replied. She thought she felt the movement of Duncan shrugging his shoulders. If not, she imagined he would.

"Yeah, and that'll be cool. Me and babe, together at last. But, I wish there was a way I could still my job. It's been my life for so long, you know?" Courtney pursed her lips in the dark. She was confused to say the least. As aloof Duncan was sounding, almost as if he were making everyday conversation, she hated to be able to say she knew him well enough to sense alarm in his words. But, why was he divulging this to her? His worry? Perhaps it was because in a week, maybe two, she'll never see him again. She could be a world away from him. She was a stranger that wouldn't have enough time to tell anybody his secrets perhaps.

"Duncan," she began. She struggled to control her voice. She wanted nothing more than to mock him and jab him. But she also felt the urge to console him. Pathetic motherly instinct perhaps or her own loneliness reaching out for another soul in anguish. "Change is unsettling, but you are…" she drifted off. She bit back the bitterness in her voice and attempted to replace it with thick, sugary empathy. "…lucky."

"How do you figure?" he asked, incredulous.

"Well, for starters, you're not going to be sold as a slave anytime soon," she attempted to joke. When Duncan didn't respond, she continued. "You are about to earn enough money to retire at an incredibly young age, and you are marrying the love of your life."

"I suppose you're right." Courtney turned away from the wall to look at Duncan with sternness.

"No, I _am _right." She witnessed Duncan smile. He was lying on his back with her arms behind his head.

"What about you?" he asked. Courtney raised an eyebrow.

"What about me?"

"Do you have a love of your life? I never bothered to ask before." Duncan moved over on his side and propped himself up. "I try not to ask people who they've left behind." He looked away, almost ashamed. "It makes the job a little bit harder." Courtney maintained the same stern expression on her face.

"You don't say." She said curtly.

"Well?"

"No." Duncan furrowed his eyebrows.

"What do you mean no? What's wrong with telling me?" he demanded. Courtney sighed with exasperation.

"Stupid barbarian. No, as in 'No, I don't have a love of my life.' I wasn't attempting to be obstinate."

"Why wouldn't you though? You're decent looking, witty, and a princess nevertheless. I would think princes from everywhere would be lining up to be your Prince Charming." Courtney half laughed.

"There is nobody lining up at my door when you took me, and there hasn't been for a while." Duncan's eyes lit up with interest.

"Enlighten me about the trysts in your lives," he teased. Courtney shook her head.

"That's my business, pig."

"Fine. Then prepare for me to tell you all about my dalliances. Every dirty detail will be, of course, described as passionately as possible." Courtney blushed in the dark, and hopefully Duncan wouldn't tell.

"Nope, I'd rather not listen to your sex stories involving you and farm animals." Duncan laughed spiritedly. Courtney shrugged nonchalantly. She debated telling Duncan about her past. Courtney hesitated. He seemed like the last person she wanted to tell personal details about, but on the other hand, she longed to talk to someone and find normalcy in her life. She eyed Duncan over with scrutiny. He knew she was stubborn, but, and she smiled, he would underestimate her cleverness. Once he let his guard down, she was gone on the nearest horse towards the border. She didn't want to risk lying to somebody who probably lied to people for a living, so she told Duncan the truth. There wasn't a need to lie anyway. Her problem with suitors was common knowledge in her country. She told him her tale.

In her entirety as a princess, only two men had approached her as potential partners. The first suitor had been when she was twelve. Of course, the marriage wouldn't have occurred until she was older, but the lad had wanted to meet his future bride in person. She didn't even remember what his name was or where he was from. She told Duncan how her personal servants had dressed her up in a hideous blue dress when she begged to wear a more flattering color instead. The boy ended up being a couple years older, but was vastly immature. He told ridiculous jokes and teased her about the way she looked. He was a lighter skinned, blond haired boy who hadn't seen a girl tanned like her with dark hair and even darker eyes.

"He threatened to cut all my hair off with scissors when we got married," Courtney seethed. Duncan chuckled.

"You know he wouldn't have."

"I wasn't going to take my chances by marrying such a mean spirited child. My actions were justified."

"What actions?" Duncan asked with a small smile on his face.

"I asked him if he liked the color red better than blue," Courtney said sweetly.

"What did he say?" Duncan didn't know what she was getting at.

"He said yes, and so I punched him in the nose. There was blood all over his face and some of it got on our clothes. I asked him if he liked that better," she replied innocently. Duncan grinned wickedly next to her.

"So the princess has a bad side."

"It was practically self-defense, Duncan."

"Whatever you say, Princess." Courtney's face flushed. She continued on to the second suitor.

It was last year when the second suitor showed up. She told Duncan where she had been when one of her female companions burst into the room with the news. She had a proposal! It had come from nowhere. Courtney was quickly primped and polished and pushed into a shimmering gown more flattering than the blue monstrosity as a child. She met the man later that night and learned his story. He had traveled from a far country after hearing of Courtney's beauty and accomplishments from an ambassador passing through. The young man was the heir to the throne in his country, but his father was at war, and the stress for the crown prince to be wed was proposed as a preparation for the worst and for public moral. The young man was a clever and handsome with dark red hair and bright green eyes. A couple weeks had passed and she was considering of accepting his proposal.

Courtney paused. The next few lines came out as a whispered rush.

"Every day we had tea at the same time in the afternoon, but I wanted to surprise him with a new violin piece I had learned just for him. I approached his door in the morning hours, but when I drew near I heard strange sounds from his room. I thought he might be in distress. So I knocked briefly on his door, and I entered. I announced my presence with concern, but I was met with the sight of him bedding one of my female companions. There was an argument, and somehow one of the vases in the room connected with his face. Scarred his face I believe," she finished with venom. She heard the sound of laughing. Courtney glared at Duncan's form in the dark and poked him where she thought his chest would be.

"Don't laugh. He made a fool of me," she reprimanded. Duncan continued to laugh despite Courtney's demanded cries. His laughing eventually slowed and the silence settled in the dark room like sand settling in a murky river. One of Duncan's arms found itself draped loosely around Courtney's shoulders. There wasn't affection in the act, but friendly regard similarly how an older brother might treat his younger sister.

"Now I understand why men avoid you. You're probably one of those abusive women in bed anyway that likes to use knives and whips," he joked. Courtney scoffed and punched him lightly in the arm. She was smiling though. "You know what I think?"

"Nothing?" she ribbed.

"Ha ha. No. I think your feistiness is one of your most attractive qualities." Courtney froze beneath the covers of the bed. She noticed Duncan's arm still resting around her shoulder loosely and she gingerly moved it off.

"You would be the first," she replied smoothly. Duncan reached out and ruffled her hair much to her disdain.

"You just haven't met the right man." Courtney sat up in the bed and punched square in the shoulder. He yelped with surprise and gripped his shoulder reflexively.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, eyes wide.

"No, but you're an idiot," she countered.

"How am I an idiot?"

"When am I going to get the time to find the right man, settle down, have kids, and do the whole family thing?" Duncan opened his mouth to answer, but realized his mistake. He was the reason why she would never be free again.

"You are unbelievable," she hissed. He glowered at her.

"You drive me crazy," he shot back. She returned to her position of facing the wall and he faced the doorway, away from her. As she settled in a short sleep, Courtney felt the urge to hit Duncan again. She squeezed her eyes tighter together to shut out the picture of Duncan grinning at her beside her in bed, but for some reason, she couldn't. She wanted to reach out with an imaginary fist and hit him in his face. Whenever she tried to though, at the last second, her fist opened, and she was touching his face instead. She pictured touching his face, making sure to touch all the piercings, and her hand would move down to his neck and glide down his abdomen-

She buried her face in the bed's mattress and forced all thoughts of Duncan out of her head.

Meanwhile, beside her, Duncan imagined strangling Courtney. Should be nagging him about something or the other when he would just reach out with both hands and envelope her delicate neck. But, in his dream, his outreaching hands stopped whenever they neared her throat and instead grasped her hair. Courtney wouldn't be nagging anymore, but murmuring softly and smiling coyly at him.

He covered his face with one of his hands as if he could shield his closed eyes from the ridiculous dream. Duncan attempted to empty all thoughts of Courtney from his mind and sleep peacefully.

* * *

><p>Courtney was woken up the next morning by the sounds of Duncan putting his boots on. She had wedged herself tightly against the wall and, judging by the imprint of Duncan's body in the bed, he had remained on the edge of the bed. She sighed quietly with relief. She effortlessly stepped out of bed and headed towards her own shoes. Once on, she shrugged on her jacket and pulled the cloak around her body. She was thankful for the cloak this morning. Her clothes were certainly rumpled as well as her hair. When she finished, Duncan lead them both from the room down to the rest of the party. Light was barely peeking into the sky and already the crew was packing to go. Duncan's men were experienced, and it didn't take long for the caravan to begin heading out for another day of travel.<p>

Several more days passed full of horseback riding and short nights at foreign inns. Courtney didn't speak to Noah again for the remainder of the time, but she figured he'd find a reason to meet with Duncan again. As for Duncan, with each passing day he changed a little. There was extra energy in his step, more vigor in his attitude. He made more jokes with his teammates and even talked to Courtney about the weather one day. Every night was spent in a rickety inn bedroom, but Duncan never again spoke to her as openly as he had on the first night. When Courtney brought up his changed attitude, he only responded cheerfully, "Who wouldn't be excited about going home?"

On the seventh day, they finally arrived at Duncan's home, or the grounds located around his home. Courtney was just becoming used to the feeling of perpetual dust caked on her face and clothes wrinkled beyond repair when they reached a large metal gate in the middle of the road. Duncan stepped down off his horse and approached the gate. It was about ten feet tall with the bars curving inward at the top, sufficiently preventing someone from climbing over the gate from the inside. Duncan pulled out a large black key that looked like it was cast iron. He placed it in the keyhole that was part of the gate and soon the gate swung open freely. He returned to his horse and resumed leading the party into his estate. Courtney eyed the property warily. So far, the terrain hadn't changed from its dense population of trees and thick bush.

"I guess you weren't kidding when you said you had an estate," she commented dryly. Duncan shrugged.

"I'm not here half the year, so I rent the place out. The actual house isn't that big. Only holds a few. The main portion of the estate is the business part, but you'll see that for yourself I suppose. In only a few minutes, the trees broke away to reveal a small collection of buildings. Courtney noted that the style was nothing fancy compared to her country's upper class buildings. Several of the buildings were identical in height and length. Off towards her left was a plain two story building which Courtney assumed was Duncan's living space. A few buildings near the other edge of the clearing already had smoke slipping out of the chimneys. In the middle of the space was a large platform. It stood out like a thorn on a flower. If it weren't for the platform, Courtney would have assumed the clearing belonged to a group of simple people, but now it was clear that the identical appearing buildings towards her right was where all the captured people were to be kept.

She didn't have any more time to survey the area. Duncan was already barking orders.

"What's going on?" she asked when the flurry of movement initiated. Duncan turned backwards on his horse to gaze at her with neutrality.

"Everybody's being moved to the holding quarters. The auctions will begin in a few days. Yours and the other valuables will begin after that. For now though, you will be placed in specially contained quarters in the basement of my house." Somebody reached for Courtney and pulled her down off the horse. She yelped with surprise, and the screeched with anger as the hands gripped her forearms and refused to relent. She kicked the open air and screamed a slew of filth words. She was still clothed in the ridiculous cloak, and her vision prevented her from seeing who was pulling/carrying her towards the house. This was it. Her last chance at freedom before she was placed in real confines. She continued to resist the pull of her guard, and then, she pedaled backward into him as hard and as fast as she could. He was caught off guard; she heard him grunt with surprise as they both toppled to the ground. She rolled and gave the body a furious kick. Afterwards, she didn't stop to look at the man or wait for him to react. She took off running towards the woods behind the house. She already had distance on everyone, and she only had to make it a few hundred feet.

Her cloak was grabbed, causing her to be yanked completely off her feet and land heavily on her back. She scratched at the material encasing her neck, all the while struggling to breathe properly. The cloak was still pulling at her throat painfully. She threw back her hood and glared abhorrently at the man holding her back. She wasn't surprised. It was Duncan. He returned her glare with an irritated frown.

"I guess I'll have to take you there myself. Now you've gone and delayed my previous plans." He picked her up and casually tossed her over his shoulder. She screamed.

"Put me down! Put me down now! Putmedown! Putmedown! Putmedown!" She screeched. Duncan ignored her shouts of rage. They reached the front door of the house and entered. Courtney was still punching Duncan's back and attempting to pull his hair, so she didn't notice any of the furnishings inside. Duncan shouted over her yells. Courtney was quickly put down. She huffed angrily. Standing next to Duncan was a bemused young man with blonde hair and a bright smile. She stared suspiciously at him. The man said something in the same barbarian tongue as everybody else, but whatever he said caused Duncan to laugh good naturedly and punch him lightly in the shoulder. The man passed Duncan an unlabeled, dark container as well as a cloth. Duncan expertly placed the cloth on top of the bottle, turned it upside, and quickly turned it back right side up. The cloth was now soaked with whatever liquid was in the bottle. Courtney backed away apprehensively. Duncan approached her slowly like he would a skiddish colt. She eyed the cloth warily. She suspected whatever was soaking the cloth was meant for her only. She covered her mouth and nose with both of her hands.

"Stay away," she hissed. Duncan began to murmur softly in his strange language, but she scoffed. He couldn't try to comforting in the vulgar sounding language of his. She took the briefest of moments to glance at the door they had entered from. One second was all Duncan needed. He rushed towards her with the cloth outreached. She squealed with surprise and tried to knock the cloth from his hand. Duncan moved with expertise, dodging her untrained swings. He found an opening in her weak attacks and smothered her face with the cloth. Immediately her vision began to blur and her head clouded over. She couldn't focus. Something…she was supposed to…no…she didn't know…sleep…close her eyes.

She closed her eyes within a few seconds. Duncan sighed with relief.

"About time," he sighed, relieved.

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><p>Eek! I'm about a month late. Much apologies. In theory, my house was supposed to have internet connection, but alas, not so much. In result, I spent hardly anytime on my computer, and I ended up spending most of the time either working or hanging with the family. So, I finished up during the first couple weeks of school. Updates will be sporadic. I think finals are in 5 weeks? I dunno how this semester is gonna work out. Finals are in, like, 3 months. No joke. So, midterms are coming up already, blah blah blah. Enjoy the chapter nevertheless. Love you guys. Thanks to frizzle1872, HATERS CAN'T SEE ME, MusicLuver78901, WhiteTigerStripes, see my reverie, mUziEk, ROCKTHEWORLD300, and everybody who's subscribed or favorite this story. It means worlds. Over and out<p> 


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